t%>*<y 

II f ! 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 

THE  PETER  AND  ROSELL  HARVEY 

MEMORIAL  FUND 


8853 


ffe 


Yours  Truly, 
DENNIS  COLLINS 


The  Indians'  Last  Fight 

OR 

THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID 


BY 
DENNIS  COLLINS 


COPYRIGHT  RESERVED 

BY 
DENNIS  COLLINS 


PRESS  OF 

THE  APPEAL  TO  REASON 
GIRARD,  KANSAS 


PREFACE 

The  work  of  writing  a  book  is  one  that  requires  a 
vast  amount  of  knowledge,  natural  ability  and  educa- 
tional advantages,  to  produce  something  that  is  reliable, 
as  regards  information  imparted,  unimpeachable  author- 
ity, and,  at  the  same  time,  a  power  of  expression  that 
will  present  the  matter  to  the  reader  in  a  manner  that 
will  convey  the  proper  meaning  of  the  author.  I  would 
not  have  undertaken  the  present  work,  were  it  not  that 
I  was  encouraged  by  the  friends  of  former  days  who  felt 
confident  in  my  ability  to  portray  the  scenes  to  be  de- 
picted in  a  fitting  manner.  I  should  probably  be  able 
to  perform  the  task  before  me  with  greater  success  if  I 
had  some  of  the  advantages  of  what  is  called  Higher  Ed- 
ucation, but,  I  set  out  on  my  journey  through  this  new 
domain,  encouraged  particularly,  by  a  statement  made  by 
a  certain  ex-President,  that  he  did  not  believe  in  all  the 
"Ph  V,  and  "Ch  V,  that  are  in  common  use  in  our  lan- 
guage; that  he  believed  in  a  plain,  intelligent  expression 
of  ideas  that  conveys  the  full  meaning  of  the  speaker  or 
writer,,  without  any  unnecessary  verbiage. 

My  own  personal  qualifications  for  undertaking  the 
task  before  me,  might  be  considered  too  inadequate  to 
many.  True,  I  have  not  had  the  advantage  of  a  Univer- 
sity Education,  but  with  a  solid  foundation  of  learning 
laid  in  the  little  school  of  boyhood  in  Canada,  supple- 
mented by  a  wide  course  of  reading  through  all  the  years 
I  have  spent  in  the  West,  I  feel  that  the  difficulties  be- 
fore me  are  not  too  great  to  be  overcome,  especially  as  I 
have  the  example  of  so  many  men  before  me  who  have 
become  self-educated  by  an  earnest  application  of  time 
and  energy  to  the  opportunities  presented.  If  I  have  de- 
veloped any  facility  of  expression,  I  must  attribute  it 


6  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

to  the  wealth  of  good  books  I  have  had  the  good  fortune 
to  have  at  my  disposal  at  various  times. 

Another  motive  that  has  impelled  me  to  undertake 
the  task  of  presenting  the  "AVest"  to  the  general  reader, 
is  that  there  has  been  so  much  written  about  it  that  is 
not  veracious,  and  that  many  have  a  false  notion  of  what 
the  term  really  means.  I  shall  endeavor  to  set  before  the 
public  a  true  account  of  many  of  the  recent  happenings 
in  the  vast  country  that  lies  west  of  the  Mississippi,  that 
they  may  have  a  better  idea  of  its  history  and  its  people. 
I  have  read  in  numerous  Magazines  and  Journals,  ac- 
counts of  the  habits  and  customs  of  the  Western  People 
in  general,  and  of  the  cow-puncher  in  particular,  with  a 
full  description  of  tire  Indian  at  peace  and  at  war,  that, 
from  the  reality,  it  would  be  impossible  to  recognize  any 
of  them.  I  am  quite  satisfied  that  the  authors  of  the  so- 
called  narrations  did  not  have  an  opportunity  of  study- 
ing the  subject  at  close  quarters,  and,  consequently,  were 
not  in  a  position  to  do  the  topic  justice.  As  a  consequence 
of  this  unreliable  mode  of  narration,  people  who  do  not 
know,  imagine  that  the  cow-puncher  was  half-man  and 
half-horse,  or,  if  not  so  bad  as  that,  pictured  him  as  a 
ranting,  roaring,  rollicking,  bloodthirsty,  oath-emitting, 
unconstrained  son  of  perdition,  whose  chief  occupation 
was  murder  and  rapine,  and  whose  avocation  was  herd- 
ing cattle.  As  for  the  Indian,  he  was  supposed  to  have 
no  other  qualification  for  attention  than  murder  and  pil- 
lage, totally  depraved,  and  beyond  the  scope  of  all  civil- 
izing influences.  Such  ideas  are  based  on  imaginary  au- 
thority, and  are  as  far  from  the  truth  as  it  is  possible 
for  any  narrative  to  be.  I  shall  endeavor  to  set  before 
the  reading  public  a  proper  appreciation  of  both  the  In- 
dian and  the  cow-puncher.  Both  had  faults,  but,  in  view 
of  their  surroundings  and  circumstances  of  life,  they 
both  will  bear  comparison  with  those  who  have  had  all 
the  advantages  of  the  higher  education,  and  the  influence 
of  civilization.  On-e  thing  that  will  always  stand  in  their 
favor  is  that  they  were  "men,"  and  played  the  game  of 


OR  /THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  7 

life  in  "man"  fashion.  Smallness,  or  rather,  pettiness 
of  character  was  entirely  lacking  in  their  general  scheme 
of  life;  that  remained  in  the  big  cities  of  the  East. 

Having  spent  more  than  thirty  years  among  the  cow- 
men and  the  Indians  of  the  different  tribes,  from  the  Da- 
kota line  to  the  Panhandle  of  Texas,  I  feel  that  I  am  not 
presuming  when  I  say  that  in  that  time  I  have  acquired 
considerable  knowledge  of  both  classes  of  men,  their 
habits,  and  ideals,  and  I  trust  that  the  present  narrative 
may  be  interesting  to  all  my  old  comrades  of  the  " Plains" 
as  well  as  instructive  to  the  friends  of  my  boyhood  days 
in  the  "Land  of  the  Maple  Leaf."  I  have  the  further 
hope,  that  if  any  of  the  readers  of  this  little  work  con- 
template coming  west  to  grow  up  with  the  country,  they 
may  find  the  difficulties  of  the  way  overcome,  and  the 
rough  places  made  smooth.  They  will  find  a  generous 
welcome  awaiting  them  from  the  whole-souled  men  of 
the  Great  West,  and  will  discover  that  their  lot  has 
fallen  on  pleasant  places. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


I  N  D  E  X 


I 

*age 

PTT  APTTTT? 

T 

I-rOYl  OT*Q  1      1^  ATI  i~\  li"1  A  TIC 

Q 

V/'Xljnl  JT  ±  HA  IX' 

CHAPTER 

JL 
II 

Santa  Fe  Trail 

C7 

13 

CHAPTER 

If! 

Freighting  on  the  Trail     -     - 

17 

CHAPTER 

IV 

No  Man's  Land    

22 

CHAPTER 

V 

Cattle  Round-tips    - 

26 

CHAPTER 

VI 

Good  Men  and  Bad     -    -     -     - 

28 

CHAPTER 

VII 

Catching  Wild  Horses     -     -     - 

41 

CHAPTER 

VIII 

Why  I  Came  West 

52 

CHAPTER 

IX 

A  Cow  Boy  Love  Affair     - 

63 

CHAPTER 

X 

Entertaining  the  Hobo     -    -    - 

69 

CHAPTER 

XI 

The  Man  From  Missouri     -     - 

76 

CHAPTER 

XII 

Organizing  in  Self  Defense 

81 

CHAPTER 

XIII 

A  New  Venture  or  Hard  Times 

95 

CHAPTER 

XIV 

Returning  to  Kansas,  The 

Phenomenon     

127 

CHAPTER 

XV 

Postmasters  of  Early  Days     - 

137 

CHAPTER 

XVI 

iVT  A  C  G  1  &  Tl      li  T*  £)  7  O 

144 

CHAPTER 

-£V  V  X 

XVII 

Savages  on  Warpath 

_L  JL  t 

167 

CHAPTER 

XVIII 

The  Whirlwind  Raid 

187 

CHAPTER 

XIX 

The  Indian  Sun  Dance    -     -    - 

195 

CHAPTER 

XX 

The  Adobe  Wall  Raid 

210 

CHAPTER 

XXI 

The  Dull  Knife  Raid 

231 

CHAPTER 

XXII 

The  Great  Awakening  of  the 

West     - 

262 

CHAPTER 

XXIII 

P.  H.  Sheridan's  Arrival     -     - 

269 

CHAPTER 

XXIV 

Capture  of  Comanches  and 

Kiowas     -------- 

276 

CHAPTER 

XXV 

California  Joe's  Weakness    -    - 

283 

CHAPTER 

XXVI 

A  Period  of  Unrest     -    -     -     - 

292 

CHAPTER 

XXVII 

301 

CHAPTER 

XXVIII 

Trouble  With  the  Northern 

C;ll  P  VPT1  Tl  Pti 

319 

OXw 

CHAPTER 

XXIX 

Observations  in  Conclusion    -    - 

321 

CHAPTER  I. 
General  Conditions. 

Someone  has  said,  and  I  think  very  truthfully,  too, 
that  one-half  of  this  world  doesn't  know  how  the  other 
half  lives,  and  if  he  had  added  that  one-half  did  not  care, 
he  would  have  hit  the  nail  on  the  head.  In  order  to  ver- 
ify this  statement,  go  to  the  frontier  of  any  new  country, 
and  you  will  readily  see  that  the  progressive,  or  pro- 
ducing class,  is  too  busy  and  too  much  interested  in  try- 
ing to  make  a  little  home,  and  in  providing  the  necessa- 
ries of  life,  for  himself  and  family,  to  stop  and  inquire 
into  the  cause  of  such  conditions  which  surround  him. 
He  is  busy,  very  busy,  with  his  own  affairs.  He  must  dig 
a  well,  build  a  dugout,  and  plough  the  sod  to  roof  it..  He 
must  make  a  storm  cave,  as  it  is  one  of  the  essentials  in 
Oklahoma  and  in  Kansas,  as  a  cyclone  is  liable  to  make 
a  visitation,  and  he  himself  and  all  that  he  has,  may  very 
likely  be  nothing  more  than  a  memory.  A  storm  cave  is 
a  very  valuable  asset,  as  it  gives  the  family  a  place  of 
safety  in  storms,  and  is  a  very  great  factor  socially,  as 
the  neighbors,  if  there  be  any  close  enough,  are  most 
likely  to  drop  around  should  there  be  a  threatening  cloud 
in  the  sky,  for  the  sake  of  mutual  encouragement  and 
consolation.  I  have  seen  twenty-two  persons  in  one  cave 
that  was  no  larger  than  eight  by  ten  feet,  and  all  seemed 
to  be  satisfied;  at  least  I  was. 

At  one  time,  of  the  early  settlement  of  Western  Kan- 
sas, Indian  Territory  and  Western  Texas,  there  were  no 
mail  routes  established  except  between  the  military  posts, 
Fort  Dodge,  Kansas,  Fort  Elliot,  Texas,  Camp  Supply, 
Fort  Reno  and  Fort  Sill,  I.  T.  About  this  time,  1870, 
Dodge  City,  Kansas,  sprang  into  existence,  and  became 
the  Mecca  for  the  cowmen  of  the  Southwest,  and  like 


10  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

Rome,  all  roads  led  to  it.  If  mail  was  wanted,  or  trading 
was  necessary,  one  had  to  go  from  fifty  to  seventy-five 
miles  for  the  purpose,  and  in  no  case  less  than  twenty, 
as  the  S.  F.  R.  R.  had  a  land  grant  of  twenty  miles  on 
each  side  of  the  roadway,  and  one  could  not  homestead 
inside  of  that  limit  more  than  eighty  acres,  and  that  is 
why  settlers  who  wanted  160  acres  went  farther  out. 

In  making  those  trips  two  neighbors  usually  went 
together,  leaving  their  families  in  one  place  until  their 
return.  Their  outfit  for  the  journey  consisted  generally 
of  a  few  blankets,  a  shot  gun,  a  Winchester,  a  coffee  pot,  a 
frying  pan,  tow  lariat  ropes  to  picket  out  the  horses,  and  a 
box  of  axle  grease.  The  time  required  for  the  trip  from 
three  to  five  days  and  sometimes  longer,  owing  to  the 
distance  and  condition  of  the  roads.  There  were  no 
hotels  on  the  way.  In  fact,  there  was  nothing  but  the 
open  prairie,  and  when  it  came  to  camping  out  time  they 
picketed  out  tire  horses,  gathered  some  buffalo  chips  for 
a  fire,  made  coffee  and  flapjacks,  fried  some  bacon  and 
then  satisfied  their  appetites  with  the  fare  at  hand.  Sup- 
per over,  they  discussed  prospects  for  the  future  and  then 
rolled  up  in  their  blankets  for  a  good  sound  sleep  with 
nothing  to  disturb  them  but  the  howling  of  the  coyotes 
that  were  around  looking  for  something  to  eat.  At  times 
something  would  stampede  a  herd  of  antelopes  and  in 
their  mad  flight  they  would  create  a  noise  like  the  roll  of 
distant  thunder.  One  thing  that  was  in  the  favor  of  the 
camper-out  was  that  it  seldom  rained  and  any  dust  that 
was  made  on  the  trail  was  blown  away,  leaving  the  way 
as  clean  as  a  pavement.  The  wind  generally  blew  from 
the  South  for  four  days  at  a  time,  or  thereabouts,  at  a 
rate  of  about  forty  miles  an  hour,  and  then  returned  at 
the  same  rate  from  the  North. 

On  a  trip  of  this  kind,  one  became  the  messenger  and 
delivery  boy  for  all  the  neighbors.  It  was  mail  for  one, 
paregoric  for  another,  Epsom  Salts  for  a  third,  and  to- 
bacco, coffee,  sugar  and  other  commodities  which  they 
were  in  need  of  at  the  time  the  journey  was  undertaken. 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  11 

The  return  of  the  expedition  was  looked  forward  to  with 
as  much  interest  and  anxiety  as  is  the  return  of  the  Cu- 
nard  steamer  at  the  port  of  New  York.  Each  day  found 
the  children  on  the  hillside  watching  and  waiting  for  the 
return  of  the  dear  ones,  and  night  was  made  hideous  by 
the  howling  of  the  family  watchdog  wailing  over  the  ab- 
sence of  his  master.  The  neighbors,  too,  shared  the  gen- 
eral feeling  and  called  several  times  a  day  to  see  if  any 
tidings  had  been  received  of  them,  or  if  there  was  any- 
thing they  stood  in  need  of. 

The  next  step  in  the  way  of  progress  was  to  sink  a 
well.  This  was  a  necessity  of  the  first  degree,  as  the  early 
settlers  were  compelled  to  haul  water  from  the  distant 
creeks,  or  rivers,  in  barrels,  and  the  quality  of  the  supply 
was  not  very  high  class.  The  presence  of  a  well  near  at 
hand  would  solve  the  problem  and  at  the  same  time  save 
a  lot  of  time  which  would  naturally  be  required  to  bring 
it  from  a  distance.  The  task  was  the  work  of  two  men, 
as  the  well  had  to  be  sunk  from  one  hundred  to  one 
hundred  and  twenty-five  feet  before  water  could  be  found 
that  would  meet  the  needs  of  the  situation.  One  man 
could  not  do  the  work  alone,  so  a  neighbor  lent  his  assist- 
ance. By  means  of  a  derrick  and  a  cheap  mule  purchased 
for  the  purpose  they  raised  the  water  when  the  well  was 
dug.  The  animal  was  left  at  the  well  and  each  man  that 
went  to  draw  water  was  to  see  to  it  that  his  muleship  did 
not  suffer  from  want  of  attention. 

The  above  were  only  a  few  of  the  difficulties  that  the 
pioneer  encountered  in  his  endeavor  to  get  a  start  in  life. 
Those  who  came  to  the  country  in  '79  or  the  early  80 's 
found  difficulties  in  abundance.  As  it  rained  very  little 
during  those  years,  their  means  were  soon  exhausted,  and 
a  great  many  were  forced  through  necessity  to  abandon 
their  claims  and  return  East  in  search  of  employment. 
All  would  have  been  compelled  to  go  were  it  not  for  the 
carcasses  left  by  the  buffalo  hunters  who  had  taken  noth- 
ing but  the  hide  and  the  hump.  Buffalo  bones  were  worth 
about  $14  per  ton,  and  the  pioneers  that  remained  gath- 


12  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

ered  them  up  and  hauled  them  to  market  at  Dodge  City. 
It  took  from  eight  to  ten  days  to  gather  and  market  a  load 
of  bones.  This  source  of  revenue,  while  not  very  remun- 
erative, served  as  an  opportunity  for  them  to  keep  body 
and  soul  together.  By  the  time  the  bones  began  to  dis- 
appear entirely,  they  had  succeeded  in  getting  some  land 
in  a  state  of  cultivation  and  raised  a  fair  crop  of  millet, 
sorghum  and  Kaffir  corn,  crops  adapted  to  the  dry  clim- 
ate. Besides  these  things,  a  few  chickens  and  a  cow  or 
two  relieved  the  situation  a  great  deal.  Most  of  the  old- 
timers  who  had  the  courage  to  stay,  or  rather  lacked  the 
means  of  getting  away,  are  today  in  good  circumstances, 
and  the  land  that  was  then  almost  a  desert,  is  now  as 
productive  as  any  in  the  United  States. 


CHAPTER  II. 
Santa  Fe  Trail;  How  It  Was  Obtained;  Freighting,  Etc. 

The  man  who  enlists  in  the  army  under  the  influence 
of  patriotic  speeches  delivered  by  some  great  orator,  ac- 
companied by  a  brass  band,  has  no  conception  of  the 
nerve,  energy  and  enterprise  that  was  required  of  the 
first  man  who  popped  his  bull-whip  over  the  backs  of  his 
oxen  at  little  old  Westport  on  the  banks  of  the  Missouri 
River,  and  shouted  to  his  men,  "Come  on,  boys,  we  are 
bound  for  Santa  Fe."  There  were  no  mile  posts  before 
him  to  direct  him  on  his  way,  and  no  scouts  in  advance 
to  warn  him  of  impending  dangers.  There  was  nothing 
before  but  the  open  prairie,  trackless  as  the  ocean,  but 
onward  he  pressed  across  the  unmarked  plains,  over  hills 
and  canyons,  across  creeks  and  rivers,  until  he  reached 
his  destination.  His  whole  route  lay  through  dangers 
from  hostile  tribes  who,  if  not  on  the  warpath  one  day, 
were  liable  to  be  on  the  next.  Everybody  was  supposed 
to  sleep  with  one  eye  open,  otherwise  he  would  be  likely 
to  wake  up  in  an  unknown  land,  while  his  poor  habitation 
of  clay  would  be  left  minus  part  of  its  thatch.  Such  were 
the  conditions  confronting  the  heroes  who  opened  up  the 
trail  and  made  it  possible  for  the  immigrants  to  take 
Horace  Greeley's  advice  to  "Go  West  and  grow  up  with 
the  country."  It  is  true  that  there  was  a  great  profit  in 
the  freighting  business  in  the  early  days,  but  the  difficul- 
ties and  dangers  were  proportionally  great.  The  Indian 
was  not  the  only  risk — there  was  the  prairie  fire,  the 
Texas  fever,  and  numerous  other  dangers  confronting 
one  at  every  step.  When  the  Texas  fever  seized  the  cattle, 


14  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

as  the  ox  teams  were  called,  the  game  was  up.  I  knew 
one  man  who  drove  into  Dodge  City  with  over  a  hundred 
head  of  fine  work  oxen,  and  in  less  than  six  weeks  he  did 
not  have  enough  stock  left  to  pull  the  empty  wagons  out 
of  town,  such  was  the  fatal  results  of  the  Texas  fever. 

The  prairie  fire  could  be  handled  in  most  cases  if  it 
caught  in  the  short  prairie  or  buffalo  grass.  All  that  was 
necessary  was  to  start  a  back  fire,  drive  onto  the  burned 
space  and  wait  until  the  head  fire  had  passed.  But  if  it 
caught  one  in  the  river,  or  creek  bottoms,  where  the  grass 
grew  from  four  to  six  feet  high,  the  only  hope  lay  in  flight 
with  the  chances  very  much  against  one. 

Such  were  the  principal  difficulties  to  be  encountered 
on  the  trail.  There  were  others  of  a  less  serious  nature, 
but,  nevertheless,  very  irksome  and  sometimes  danger- 
ous, such  as  bogging  down  in  the  quicksand  while  cross- 
ing a  river,  or  creek.  If  the  sand  was  not  thoroughly 
packed  by  driving  the  cattle  back  and  forth  over  it  be- 
fore driving  into  it  with  a  wagon,  one  was  liable  to  lose 
a  wagon  or  two,  and  possibly  the  entire  outfit. 

Freighting  soon  became  quite  an  important  industry. 
New  trails  were  laid  off  from  the  little  towns  that  sprang 
up  along  the  Santa  Fe  trail  to  the  different  ranches  in 
the  Territory  and  Texas.  The  pirce  paid  for  freighting 
was  at  one  time  two  to  three  dollars  per  hundred  pounds, 
to  the  Panhandle  ranches.  I  have  seen  a  train  of  wagons 
half  a  mile  long  going  to  the  Panhandle.  It  was  about 
this  time  that  the  great  American  promoter,  or  capitalist, 
came  out  of  the  jungles  with  a  railroad  scheme,  went  be- 
fore Congress  and  begged  assistance  for  the  infant  indus- 
try. The  idea  was  to  build  the  Santa  Fe  R.  B.  westward 
from  Kansas  City,  and  they  could  not  afford  to  do  it  with- 
out a  land  grant.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  they  received 
it.  It  consisted  of  each  alternate  section  for  twenty  miles 
on  each  side  of  the  track.  The  same  railroad  at  about  the 
same  period  gave  birth  to  another  railroad  (they  came 
near  being  twins.)  That  is  the  branch  that  runs  south- 
ward through  Kansas  and  the  Indian  Territory,  through 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  15 

the  richest  oil  field  in  America.  It  is  needless  to  say  that 
they  got  this  grant  through  Congress  also.  I  may  here  re- 
mark that  I  have  watched  our  legislators  for  a  number  of 
years  and  have  never  seen  them  make  any  special  effort 
to  protect  the  farmer's  infant  industry,  though  the  farmer 
outnumbers  the  promoter  and  the  capitalist  five  hundred 
to  one.  The  same  can  be  said  of  the  mechanic's  infant 
industry. 

Moreover,  it  is  to  be  noted  that  in  a  time  of  national 
distress,  it  is  the  farmer  and  the  mechanic  who  take  their 
places  in  the  ranks  of  the  army  to  fight  the  battle  of  the 
country.  I  have  seen  Congress  take  a  hand  in  the  pro- 
tection of  the  cattlemen  in  the  Cherokee  Strip,  but  at  the 
same  time  there  was  a  certain  Senator  from  Kansas  who 
had  interests  there  and  who  wished  that  tract  of  land  to 
remain  a  sort  of  "No  Man's  Land"  for  the  sole  benefit  of 
himself  and  the  Cattle  Syndicate  in  which  he  was  very 
much  interested.  This  condition  endured  for  fourteen 
years.  During  this  time  Payne  and  Couch  organized  a 
colony  of  settlers  or  "N,esters"  as  they  were  called,  and 
set  a  movement  on  foot  to  take  up  some  of  that  land,  and 
establish  their  homes.  Although  it  was  unclaimed  land, 
as  soon  as  the  settlers  had  their  little  homes  built  and 
things  in  shape  to  take  up  the  burden  of  their  lives,  the 
soldiers  through  the  influence  of  the  Cattle  Syndicate 
swooped  down  upon  them,  arrested  the  settlers,  tore  down 
their  houses,  and  drove  the  offending  parties  back  across 
the  Kansas  line.  Through  all  these  discouraging  condi- 
tions the  settlers  maintained  the  fight  and  finally  won  out 
against  the  powerful  Syndicate,  but  at  what  a  cost! 
Payne  was  arrested  and  taken  to  Fort  Smith,  handcuffed 
like  a  criminal,  and  was  held  there  for  a  long  time  but 
was  not  given  a  trial,  as  there  were  no  legal  grounds  for 
his  arrest.  Poor  Payne  did  not  live  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of 
his  labors  for  the  early  settlers,  but  he  made  it  possible 
for  them  to  make  homes  for  themselves  and  enjoy  them  in 
peace,  unmolested  by  the  powerful  Syndicate  and  those 


16  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

who  were  in  league  with  them.  Were  it  not  for  the  fight 
put  up  by  Payne  and  Couch,  the  land  now  occupied  by 
homes  of  thousands  of  happy  and  contented  farmers 
would  now  be  the  grazing  ground  of  cattle  owned  by  the 
Syndicate.  Verily  the  wheels  of  Justice  move  slowly  when 
the  interests  of  the  poor  man  are  at  stake. 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  Freight  Outfit   on   the  Trail.— Tha  Difficulties  and 
Hardships  Endured. — Different  Kinds  of  Outfits,  Etc. 

The  freighter's  team  was  composed  of  from  four  to 
six  yokes  of  oxen,  sometimes  more,  driven  by  one  man 
called  a  " bullwhacker. "  The  train  consisted  of  a  ''lead" 
wagon  and  one  or  two  "trail"  wagons.  The  "lead"  wag- 
on, being  the  heaviest  and  largest,  usually  carried  a  load 
of  about  five  tons.  The  "trailers"  were  loaded  consid- 
erably lighter,  carrying  about  two  or  three  tons  each.  In 
ascending  steep  hills,  or  crossing  streams,  the  "trail" 
wagons  were  usually  "dropped"  if  the  conditions  of  the 
road  demanded  it.  If  the  river  crossing  was  quicksandy 
the  cattle  were  taken  out  and  driven  back  and  forth 
across  the  stream  until  the  quicksand  was  packed  suffi- 
ciently to  be  considered  safe.  This  decision  was  left  to 
the  judgment  of  the  foreman,  or  the  "boss"  of  the  train. 
Then  the  wagons  were  taken  across  one  by  one  until  the 
whole  outfit  was  landed  safely  on  the  opposite  side. 

The  old-time  freighter  invariably  crossed  the  streams 
in  the  afternoon  or  evenings,  for  two  reasons.  First,  the 
the  teams,  whether  oxen  or  mules,  would  pull  much  better 
in  the  evening  than  when  hitched  up  fresh  in  the  morning 
as  they  usually  had  sore  shoulders,  and  in  the  morning 
were  very  reluctant  to  go  against  the  yoke  or  collar  in  a 
very  heavy  pull.  Secondly,  it  might  rain  during  the  night 
and  the  rivers  or  streams  would  become  so  swollen  that 
passing  would  be  impossible,  and  they  would  be  compelled 
to  remain  in  camp  until  the  streams  returned  to  their 
usual  shallow  condition. 

The  foreman  always  kept  one  or  two  saddle  horses, 
a  pair  of  forty-five  six-shooters,  a  Winchester,  and  a  slick- 
er, as  it  was  one  of  his  duties  to  ride  a  few  miles  in  ad- 
vance of  the  train  to  pick  out  the  crossings  and  to  avoid 


18  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

all  difficulties  of  the  journey,  and  to  keep  the  teamsters 
posted  on  the  best  route  to  follow.  Very  frequently  the 
foreman  kept  the  commissary  department  of  the  train 
supplied  with  fresh  meat,  as  deer,  antelope  and  other 
large  game  were  plentiful,  and  the  prairie  was  literally 
covered  with  buffalo.  It  was  no  difficult  matter  to  kill 
such  game,  as  they  were  unacquainted  with  the  sound  of 
a  gun,  or  the  sight  of  man,  which  condition  changed  as 
they  soon  learned  that  the  proximity  of  a  man  spelled 
danger  and  consequently  they  became  very  wild.  When  a 
buffalo  or  deer  was  killed,  it  was  skinned  and  the  hide 
salted  and  taken  along  for  use,  or  to  sell.  The  hide  of 
the  antelope  was  considered  worthless.  The  meat  that 
was  not  intended  for  immediate  use  was  cut  into  strips, 
dipped  in  salt  water  and  hung  on  a  line  or  the  wagon 
bows  to  dry  and  was  then  preserved  for  future  use.  Flies 
never  bothered  meat  treated  in  this  manner.  Such  meat 
was  said  to  be  "  jerked,"  and  would  remain  in  good  con- 
dition for  use  for  over  a  year. 

The  outfits  usually  made  a  journey  of  about  twelve 
miles  a  day,  as  it  was  impossible  to  carry  enough  feed 
along  for  the  stock  and  have  at  the  same  time  room 
enough  for  the  freight.  Consequently,  it  was  necessary 
to  graze  the  stock,  which  required  a  considerable  time  and 
caused  much  delay.  It  was  necessary  also  to  have  the 
cattle  graze  during  the  daytime  owing  to  the  fact  that 
the  Indians  had  a  penchant  for  stampeding  a  herd  at 
night  and  running  it  off  to  parts  unknown  for  their  own 
use.  As  a  result  of  this  condition,  what  traveling  was  done 
was  accomplished  in  one  shift,  as  it  would  require  too 
much  time  and  trouble  to  hitch  up  twice  in  the  same  day. 
At  times,  when  the  grazing  was  exceptionally  good,  the 
freighter  remained  in  such  a  place  for  some  time,  as  some 
of  the  stock  would  be  footsore  and  besides  the  wagons 
needed  greasing,  the  harness  and  the  rest  of  the  outfit 
had  to  be  examined  and  repairs  made  where  needed,  sore 
shoulders  had  to  be  given  medical  treatment,  and,  in  fine, 
everything  had  to  be  done  to  keep  the  expedition  in 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  19 

proper  shape.  The  teamsters  particularly  spent  consider- 
able of  their  spare  time  in  looking  after  their  own  ac- 
coutrements, as  it  was  a  matter  of  pride  with  a  teamster 
to  have  his  implements  in  proper  condition.  The  whip 
to  the  teamster  was  the  same  as  the  rifle  to  the  soldier. 
It  had  to  be  looked  after  with  care.  New  tips,  called 
" poppers,"  or  " crackers,"  had  to  be  provided.  The 
lash,  usually  about  twelve  feet  in  length,  required  consid- 
erable skill  in  the  handling  of  it.  A  green  hand  was  as 
likely  to  wrap  it  around  his  own  neck  as  to  hit  the  object 
intended  to  receive  the  blow.  The  whip  in  the  hands  of 
an  expert  was  a  different  weapon,  and  he  could  perform 
wonders  with  it.  I  have  seen  drivers  wrap  the  tip  of 
their  whip  around  the  neck  of  a  prairie  chicken  or  a 
grouse  and  jerk  it  into  the  wagon  without  leaving  their 
seats.  If  it  were  necessary  some  of  them  could  tear  a 
patch  of  hide  oft'  the  side  of  a  refractory  mule  with  the 
deftness  of  a  surgeon. 

In  going  into  camp  there  was  one  rule  that  the  old- 
timers  always  lived  up  to  rigidly,  and  that  was  to  form 
a  corral  by  driving  one  part  of  the  wagons  to  the  right 
and  the  other  part  to  the  left,  making  the  two  lead 
wagons  meet  and  forming  a  circle  with  the  trail  wagons 
six  or  eight  feet  apart.  The  space  thus  left  open  served 
the  purpose  of  a  gate,  and  they  usually  made  their  beds 
inside  the  corral.  The  stock  was  usually  held  inside 
the  corral  for  the  night,  or  if  permitted  to  graze  were 
driven  in  to  be  hitched.  If  any  of  them  proved  unruly, 
they  were  usually  roped  and  drawn  up  to  the  wagon 
while  being  yoked  and  harnessed.  In  case  of  an  attack 
by  the  Indians  the  corral  offered  a  good  protection  for 
the  men  as  well  as  the  stock. 

The  third  trail  wagon  attached  to  some  of  the  teams 
was  never  as  heavy  nor  loaded  as  heavily  as  the  others, 
but  was  used  as  a  sort  of  trap-wagon  or  "catch-all"  for 
all  the  extras  that  were  brought  along  to  supply  the 
place  of  any  of  the  parts  that  were  broken  or  suffered 
damage.  Each  man  looked  after  his  traps  and  particu- 


20  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

larly  his  own  bed,  consisting  of  a  blanket.     When  not 
in  use  it  was  rolled  up  and  carried  in  the  trap  wagon. 

With  each  large  outfit  there  was  a  night  herder,  or 
a  horse  wrangler.  It  was  his  duty  to  go  out  with  the 
stock  during  the  night  and  bring  them  into  the  corral 
in  the  morning.  In  case  the  Indians  were  on  the  war- 
path or  were  reported  near  at  hand,  he  had  to  stand 
guard  over  the  outfit,  as  the  stock  in  such  a  case  would 
be  left  in  the  corral  until  daylight.  This  system  was 
maintained  by  all  outfits,  whether  they  drove  oxen  or 
mules. 

The  cowman's  outfit  was  entirely  different.  He 
never  used  more  than  two  wagons,  one  the  lead  wagon, 
and  the  other  the  trail,  to  carry  his  supplies  and  cook- 
ing utensils.  He  always  used  mules  or  horses  in  prefer- 
ence to  oxen,  as  oxen  were  too  slow  for  the  needs  of  his 
business.  The  trail  wagon  was  used  principally  for  car- 
rying bedding.  In  the  rear  of  it  there  was  a  cupboard, 
or  grub  box,  built  about  three  feet  in  height  and  fasten- 
ed to  the  wagon  by  means  of  bolts.  The  door  of  the  cup- 
board, instead  of  swinging  as  in  ordinary  articles  of  the 
kind,  swung  downwards  and  was  used  as  a  dining  table. 
The  interior  of  the  cupboard  was  so  arranged  that  the 
dishes  could  be  safely  stored  away  together  with  some 
canned  goods,  if  it  were  possible  to  obtain  the  latter,  as 
they  were  seldom  seen  in  the  early  days  along  the  trail. 
Outside  of  the  necessary  articles  required  for  the  jour- 
ney, nothing  else  was  carried,  so  that  the  cowman  and 
his  party  had  little  opportunity  to  enjoy  any  luxuries. 
As  supply  points  were  few  and  far  between,  the  price 
of  goods,  especially  bacon,  baking  powder,  salt,  tobacco 
and  other  essentials  was  very  high.  The  lead  wagon 
was  used  for  general  supplies,  and  it  required  an  abun- 
dance of  the  same  to  carry  the  outfit  from  one  replen- 
ishing point  to  another.  I  am  speaking  here  of  what  is 
called  ''through  herds,"  that  is,  herds  on  the  way  to 
market. 

While  provisions  were  scarce  and  difficult  to  obtain, 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  21 

it  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  the  ranchers  never  tried  to 
improve  the  situation  in  any  appreciable  degree.  They 
never  planted  a  garden.  No  vegetables  ever  appeared  at 
mess  excepting,  once  in  a  while,  potatoes  and  onions. 
Nevertheless,  all  kinds  of  garden  produce  might  have 
been  had  at  a  very  small  outlay,  and  with  very  little 
labor,  but  the  average,  and  you  might  say,  all  the  cow- 
boys had  an  aversion  for  anything  that  had  the  appear- 
ance of  farming,  which  they  considered  degrading.  I 
have  been  at  a  number  of  ranches  that  maintained  from 
twenty-five  to  thirty  thousand  head  of  cattle  and  did 
not  see  a  pound  of  butter  or  a  drop  of  milk  on  the  table. 
Eggs,  chickens  and  fresh  pork  were  unknown  to  them. 
In  fact,  they  produced  nothing  but  cattle  and  considered 
everything  else  unimportant. 

When  the  railroad  was  extended  to  Dodge  City,  that 
place  became  the  shipping  point  for  the  beef-cattle  of 
the  whole  Southwest.  When  that  assembling  point  was 
established  to  supply  the  Eastern  market,  it  relieved  the 
tedium  and  difficulties  of  an  overland  journey  to  Kansas 
City.  As  a  consequence  of  this,  the  cattle  industry  in 
Indian  Territory  received  an  impetus,  and  many  cattle- 
men moved  into  that  district  from  Colorado  and  Texas, 
and  established  themselves  along  the  North  and  South 
Canadian  rivers  and  their  tributaries.  Quite  a  number 
of  them  became  very  wealthy  in  a  few  years  owing  to 
the  rise  in  the  price  of  beef  and  the  low  cost  of  produc- 
tion. While  some  of  them  grew  wealthy  through  taking 
advantage  of  the  natural  resources,  others  lost  all  they 
possessed  owing  to  the  severe  winters,  lack  of  protection 
for  their  stock  and  an  insufficient  supply  of  food  for 
their  herds.  The  result  of  their  misfortune  was  that 
they  slipped  back  among  the  vast  army  of  the  luckless 
ones  and  were  seldom  heard  of,  while  those  who  had  the 
foresight  to  provide  against  all  the  contingencies  of  the 
uncertain  climate  by  putting  up  hay  in  the  summer  time 
and  protecting  their  ranches  from  the  destructive  prairie 
fires,  prospered  handsomely. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

No  Man's  Land. — First  Settlers. — Branding  Mavericks, 

Etc. 

About  the  year  1878,  as  the  last  buffalo  was  about  to 
disappear,  the  hunters  were  compelled  to  seek  some  new 
field  of  labor,  or  devote  their  attentipn  to  some  other 
occupation.  It  was  about  this  time  that  the  first  house 
was  erected  in  what  is  now  called  Beaver  City,  the  coun- 
ty seat  of  Beaver  county,  Oklahoma.  At  that  time  the 
county  was  unsurveyed,  and  a  man's  possessions  were 
limited  to  what  land  he  could  use,  or  furnish  cattle  to 
graze  upon,  as  there  was  plenty  for  everybody,  and  no 
need  of  disputing  ownership. 

I  shall  briefly  mention  a  few  of  the  earliest  settlers. 

Two  ex-hunters,  Jim  Lane  and  Nels  Gary,  brought 
their  families  and  built  a  sod  house.  With  an  eye  to 
business,  they  put  up  hay  and  built  corrals  for  the  ac- 
commodation of  freighters  and  cattlemen.  Seeing  their 
way  open  to  further  development,  they  put  in  a  stock 
of  groceries  and  provisions  of  all  kinds,  and  were  soon 
doing  a  flourishing  business  by  providing  for  the  wants 
of  man  and  beast. 

The  Healy  Brothers  came  from  Galveston  with  their 
herds  of  cattle,  and  located  their  ranch  on  the  North 
bank  of  Beaver  Creek,  where  their  efforts  were  crowned 
.with  success. 

The  Kramer  Brothers,  Lou  and  Frank,  with  a 
brother-in-law,  Mr.  Hooker,  established  a  ranch  west  of 
Beaver  City  and  also  another  one  on  Clear  Creek,  where 
they  devoted  their  time  and  attention  to  the  improve- 
ment of  their  stock  by  raising  thoroughbred  cattle. 

The  Cader  Brothers,  formerly  engaged  in  the  hunt- 
ing business,  chose  for  themselves  a  ranch  on  Paladuro 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  23 

Cre^k  and  met  with  great  success,  if  rumor  is  to  be  be- 
lieved. 

Colonel  Hardesty,  more  familiarly  known  as  Old 
Jack,  established  two  ranches,  one  in  Beaver  county  and 
another  on  the  Cimmaron  river,  which  were  known  as 
the  "Hardesty"  arid  "Smith"  ranches,  and  at  one  time 
claimed  to  have  forty  thousand  head  of  cattle. 

Another  successful  rachmaii  of  those  early  days  was 
John  George,  who  is  still  residing  in  the  district  where 
he  met  with  such  success.  After  the  opening  of  Okla- 
homa Territary  for  settlement,  he  was  chosen  to  repre- 
sent his  district  in  the  Oklahoma  legislature,  and  was 
one  of  the  very  few  members  thereof  who  gave  com- 
plete satisfaction  to  his  constituents.  He  was  a  staunch 
Democrat,  an  honest  and  upright  man,  just  the  kind  that 
was  sorely  needed  in  the  Territorial  Legislature  at  that 
time,  and  of  which  there  was  a  lamentable  scarcity. 

Fred  Tainter,  of  Boston,  Massachusetts,  established 
a  ranch  on  Cottonwood  Creek,  and  bred  a  fine  grade  of 
stock.  He  remained  in  those  parts  for  years. 

There  were  many  others  who  succeeded  in  attaining 
success  in  the  business  of  raising  cattle,  but  I  mention 
only  a  few  of  the  most  successful  ones. 

I  here  mention  another  branch  of  the  ranching  busi- 
ness that  met  with  great  difficulties  in  its  day  and  which, 
to  the  cowman,  was  most  unwelcome.  The  Tarbox 
Brothers,  Rufe  and  Wall,  moved  in  with  a  drove  of 
sheep  from  Colorado  and  settled  on  the  Cimmaron  river. 
A  sheepman  is  always  received  with  scant  courtesy  in  a 
cattle  country.  There  has  always  been  ill  feeling  be- 
tween the  sheepman  and  the  cattleman,  and  in  the  trou- 
ble that  generally  ensued  on  their  meeting,  the  sheep- 
man was  the  one  to  move  to  other  quarters.  In  fact, 
even  if  the  cattlemen  were  left  out  of  consideration,  the 
sheepmen  would  be  compelled  to  move  by  force  of  cir- 
cumstances, as  sheep  are  very  destructive  feeders,  and 
soon  ruin  the  range  for  themselves  as  well  as  for  the 
cattle.  In  a  very  short  time  after  their  arrival,  every 


24  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

vestige  of  grass  will  disappear  from  the  range,  and  the 
prairie  will  be  converted  into  a  desert.  The  reason  lies 
in  the  fact  that  the  sheep  crop  the  grass  into  the  the 
ground  and  cut  up  the  soil  with  their  hoofs  so  that  the 
high  wind  which  invariably  blows  drives  the  sand  be- 
fore it,  cutting  off  the  new  grass  that  may  spring  up. 
This,  together  with  the  long  dry  periods,  soon  kills  out 
the  roots,  and  the  prairie  is  left  a  waste.  Moreover, 
cattle  will  not  eat  off  the  range  that  has  been  grazed 
over  by  sheep,  so  of  the  two  industries  it  was  a  case  of 
the  survival  of  the  fittest. 

The  struggle  between  the  cattlemen  and  the  sheep- 
men was  little,  if  any,  short  of  war.  This  condition  ex- 
isted for  many  years  in  Texas,  Indian  Territory,  Western 
Kansas,  Wyoming,  Montana,  the  Dakotas,  and  in  all  of 
the  states  adapted  to  the  raising  of  stock.  The  usual 
arguments  advanced  by  both  sides  of  the  question,  in 
order  to  determine  who  was  to  hold  any  particular  sec- 
tion, generally  sounded  like  the  exhausts  of  a  few  racing 
automobiles.  One  of  the  sufferers  of  misfortune  due  to 
the  habitual  state  of  hostility  between  the  two  indus- 
tries was  the  firm  of  Tarbox  brothers,  who  gave  up  the 
business  of  raising  sheep,  moved  to  Dodge  City,  Kansas, 
where  Rufe  was  afterwards  elected  Mayor. 

As  the  most  desirable  location  for  the  establishment 
of  a  ranch  was  along  the  creeks  and  rivers,  through  the 
necessity  of  having  plenty  of  water  for  the  stock,  and  as 
the  rivers  and  creeks  were  few  and  far  between,  all  the 
choice  sections  were  soon  taken  up. 

As  none  of  the  ranchers  cared  to  venture  into  the 
semi-arid  plains  that  lay  between  the  far  distant  sources 
of  their  water  supply,  and  being  equally  unwilling  to 
depend  upon  the  deep  wells  that  would  be  required  if 
they  would  branch  out  into  the  open  flat  lands  around 
them,  they  left  that  part  of  the  prairie  for  the  small 
farmer,  or  the  "nester,"  as  they  called  them. 

Each  cattleman  had  his  OWTL  private  brand  which 
was  duly  registered  and  was  known  to  every  other  cat- 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  25 

tleman  in  the  entire  West.  They  were,  also,  very  careful 
to  employ  the  said  brand  on  all  cattle,  mules  and  horses, 
and  any  young  stock  that  had  been  weaned  and  was 
not  running  with  the  mother  was  classified  as  a  maverick 
and  belonged  to  the  first  man  who  put  his  brand  upon 
them. 

There  were  many  men  who  became  very  wealthy  in 
the  cattle  country,  whose  sole  assets  in  the  beginning 
were,  a  branding  iron,  a  rope,  a  pony  and  a  saddle.  They 
branded  mavericks,  and  the  natural  increase  of  their 
original  find  belonged  to  them  also.  In  this  way,  in  a 
very  short  time,  they  accumulated  quite  a  herd.  Then, 
by  establishing  their  headquarters  somewhere,  they  be- 
came full-fledged  ranchers  without  the  outlay  of  any 
capital  whatever.  This  was  successful  as  long  as  they 
were  not  caught,  but  woe  to  the  man  whose  brand  was 
upon  a  calf  that  was  running  with  a  cow  that  carried 
another  brand.  The  meanest  way  such  men  had  of  car- 
rying on  their  nefarious  trade  was  to  kill  the  mother 
cow  after  the  calf  was  old  enough  to  live  on  grass,  brand 
the  calf  and  run  it  off  to  another  part  of  the  range. 


CHAPTER  V. 
The  Rund-Up—  Difficulties.— Some  Incidents,   Etc. 

Every  Spring  and  Fall  occurred  the  general  round- 
up, which  consisted  of  all  the  cattlemen  in  the  country, 
who  assembled  all  the  cattle  found  on  the  ranges  in 
which  they  were  interested.  They  rounded  them  up, 
or  bunched  them  at  a  common  center  in  different  dis- 
tricts, each  ranch  being  represented  at  each  place.  All 
the  increase  was  branded  and  marked  by  the  owner,  the 
ownership  being  decided  by  the  brand  borne  by  the 
mother  cow.  The  beef-cattle  were  cut  out  and  shipped. 
Here  occurred  at  times  a  combination  of  forces.  Ranch- 
'ers  two  or  more  in  number  lumped  their  herds  together, 
and  drove  them  to  market,  each  one  bearing  his  propor- 
tion of  the  expense,  and  receiving  his  proceeds  in  accor- 
dance with  the  number  of  cattle  in  his  part  of  the  drove. 

Between  round-ups  it  was  surprising  how  the  cattle 
would  drift.  Even  though  the  cowboys  took  all  precau- 
tions, when  the  round-up  came  there  was  always  a  great 
mix-up  in  the  brands,  some  of  the  stock  having  wander- 
ed as  far  as  two  hundred  miles  from  its  own  ranch. 
These,  when  found,  were  separated  and  thrown  back  on 
their  own  range.  During  the  summer  while  the  cattle 
were  grazing,  the  rancher  usually  put  up  hay  for  the 
season  when  the  grass  would  be  covered  with  snow.  As 
soon  as  the  Fall  round-up  was  completed,  sheds  were 
erected  and  windbreaks  made  to  protect  the  stock  from 
the  inclemency  of  the  "Northers"  as  the  storms  were  at 
that  time  called. 

A  few  buffalo  that  had  escaped  the  hunters  still 
remained  on  the  range,  and  frequently  furnished  diver- 
sion for  the  cowboy  during  the  dull  season.  It  was  his 
sport  and,  at  the  same  time,  a  test  of  his  skill,  to  rope 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  27 

a  buffalo  calf  and  bring  it  to  the  ranch  to  be  mothered 
by  an  old  cow  that  already  was  devoting  her  time  and 
energy  to  raising  a  young  one  of  her  own.  Then  was 
displayed  the  motherly  instinct  for  the  protection  of 
one's  own.  As  soon  as  the  young  buffalo  was  introduced 
to  his  foster-mother  there  ensued  a  vigorous  protest 
against  the  additional  burden  imposed  upon  her  by  the 
scheming  of  others.  Strenuosity  was  displayed  at  all 
angles,  particularly  fore  and  aft,  in  her  efforts  to  rid 
herself  of  the  new-found  charge.  She  kicked  and  hook- 
'ed  and  kicked  again  till  kicking  was  a  failure.  The  more 
she  objected,  the  more  the  self-adopted  buffalo  persisted 
in  devoting  his  time  and  attention  to  her.  Once  he  'had 
a  taste  of  that  cow's  milk  he  hung  to  her  with  all  the 
persistency  and  tenacity  of  an  Oklahoma  office-seeker, 
and  she  finally  submitted  with  more  or  less  bad  grace 
to  the  inevitable,  and  consented  to  act  as  mother  to  the 
mascot  of  the  ranch. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Beaver  County. — Peculiar  Conditions   in   Vogue. — Good 

Men  and  Bad. — The  Vigilantes. — Personal 

Experiences. 

About  the  year  1876,  if  I  remember  rightly,  the  U. 
S.  Government  made  an  appropriation  to  have  Beaver 
county  surveyed.  The  contract  was  let  and  the  county 
divided  up  into  sections  or  townships,  each  six  miles 
square,  and  zinc  monuments  were  erected  at  the  corners 
of  each,  but  as  the  appropriation  was  insufficient  to  meet 
the  costs  of  the  survey,  the  work  was  abandoned  for  a 
considerable  time,  and  it  was  not  till  some  years  later 
that  the  completion  of  the  undertaking  took  place. 

It  soon  became  known  that  there  was  no  law  in  that 
section  of  the  country,  nor  had  the  U.  S'.  Government 
any  control  over,  nor  authority  to  arrest  criminals,  nor 
even  to  prosecute  them  there.  Consequently  it  soon  be- 
came the  dumping  grounds  for  fugitives  from  justice 
and  criminals  of  all  kinds.  Saloon  men  who  had  been 
paying  license  for  the  sale  of  intoxicating  liquors,  ceased 
contributing  to  the  general  fund,  but  continued  to  deal 
out  their  wares  with  impunity.  One  man  built  a  still  and 
manufactured  his  own  whiskey  and  did  a  flourishing 
business,  although  he  had  to  freight  his  corn  from  Kan- 
sas to  produce  his  wares.  To  give  honor  where  honor  is 
due,  I  must  confess  that  he  produced  a  very  good  quality. 

There  was  considerable  immigration  into  this  county 
in  '79  and  '80,  as  most  of  the  desirable  land  in  Kansas 
had  been  pre-empted.  Hundreds  of  good  men  and  wom- 
en came  in  and  selected  homes,  and  those  who  could  not 
find  locations  along  the  water  courses  went  out  into  the 
flat  prairie  lands,  erected  houses,  fenced  their  fields  to 
protect  them  against  the  range  cattle,  broke  up  as  much 


OB  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  29 

land  as  they  could  conveniently  handle,  and  made 
what  improvements  their  means  would  permit.  As  soon 
as  the  neighbors  became  acquainted  with  one  another, 
they  organized  Sunday  Schools,  held  meetings  at  some 
convenient  place  weekly,  divided  the  districts  into  school 
sections  and  built  schools.  Each  school  house  served 
the  purpose  of  a  meeting  house  for  Sunday  services  as 
well  as  for  any  other  business  that  required  a  meeting 
of  the  people.  In  a  short  time  the  county  began  to  de- 
velop the  earmarks  of  civilization. 

Following  in  the  footsteps  of  those  law-abiding  cit- 
izens came  a  class  of  criminals  who  migrated  from  their 
native  heaths  expecting  immunity  from  the  pun- 
ishment due  to  the  crimes  they  had  committed, 
and  which  caused  their  departure  to  this  haven 
of  refuge  Nor  did  they  abstain  from  their  crim- 
inal pursuits  while  in  this  "refugium  peccatorum,"  or 
asylum  of  the  wicked.  As  soon  as  they  had  become  fa- 
miliar with  the  topography  of  the  county,  and,  as  they 
were  too  lazy  to  work,  they  soon  took  up  their  old  prac- 
tice of  lying  in  wait  for  the  unsuspecting  and  carrying  off 
his  goods  when  possible.  They  usually  drifted  from  one 
ranch  to  another  pretending  to  look  for  work,  and  im- 
posed upon  the  hospitality  of  the  rancher,  who  provided 
for  their  wants  free  of  charge  as  long  as  they  cared  to 
remain.  I  may  here  remark  that  the  hospitality  of  the 
Western  people  has  never  been  surpassed,  and  I  may 
say,  never  equalled.  A  cowman  considered  himself  in- 
sulted if  one  should  leave  or  pass  his  ranch  at  meal  time 
without  partaking  of  his  hospitality.  Not  only  this,  but 
as  nothing  was  ever  locked  up,  it  was  considered  the 
proper  etiquette  if  no  one  were  at  home,  to  enter  and 
help  oneself  to  his  supplies  and  to  make  oneself  perfectly 
at  home.  N,o  one  was  ever  asked  whence  he  came  or 
whither  he  was  going.  If  he  volunteered  the  information 
without  being  asked,  it  was  received,  and  if  not  given 
the  result  was  the  same,  namely,  no  questions  asked.  In 
this  way  it  was  a  very  'easy  matter  for  the  criminal  to 


30  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

gain  an  intimate  knowledge  of  conditions,  which  they 
used  to  their  own  advantage  later  on  to  the  detriment  of 
people  generally.  They4  did  not  confine  their  depreda- 
tions to  Beaver  county  only,  nor  to  No-Man's  Land,  but 
thoroughly  organized  themselves  into  bands  and  extend- 
ed their  nefarious  business  to  Western  Kansas,  Indian 
Territory,  and  West  Texas.  Those  who  actually  stole 
stock  from  the  farms  and  ranches,  usually  took  them  a 
few  miles  and  passed  them  on  to  their  companions  in 
crime,  so  that  no  familiar  face  was  absent  from  the  scene 
of  the  theft,  and  thus  they  avoided  suspicion.  When  a 
settler's  stock  was  stolen,  he  very  seldom  had  the  slight- 
est idea  of  the  direction  to  be  taken  to  recover  them,  and 
in  most  cases  was  financially  unable  to  make  an  extend- 
ed search  in  any  direction.  Many  a  time  the  loss  of  a 
few  head  of  cattle  meant  all  that  he  had,  wiping  out  his 
whole  accumulation  of  years  of  hard  work  and  privation 
and  just  at  a  time  when  he  began  to  see  better  times 
ahead  as  he  was  getting  something  to  work  with.  This 
condition  of  affairs  could  not  be  permitted  to  continue, 
and  while  the  means  employed  by  the  settlers  to  termi- 
nate this  organized  pilfering,  and  at  the  same  time  make 
some  return  to  the  culprit  for  the  wrongs  suffered  at 
his  hands,  may  seem  hard  to  the  people  who  were  never 
subjected  to  conditions  such  as  prevailed  in  that  coun- 
try, they  were  as  a  matter  of  fact  nothing  more  nor 
less  than  cold-blooded  Justice.  Those  who  are  ignorant 
of  the  conditions  must  remember  that  the  loss  of  a  milch 
cow  meant  the  principal  part  of  his  family's  support, 
and  his  wife  and  children  were  thus  put  in  a  state  of 
actual  want  thereby,  and  as  there  were  no  means  of  ob- 
taining legal  redress  for  such  losses,  they  had  the  law 
of  self-preservation  to  guide  them  and  from  it  there  was 
no  appeal. 

At  this  point  the  idea  forced  itself  upon  the  set- 
tlers that  they  must  organize,  as  it  was  a  physical  im- 
possibility to  combat  a  well-regulated  band  of  outlaws 
single-handed;  so,  after  calling  a  meeting  of  the  best 


OH  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  31 

citizens  and  discussing  the  matter  carefully,  it  was  de- 
cided to  organize  a  Vigilance  Committee  and  see  what 
effect  the  hanging  of  a  few  of  the  ''rustlers"  would 
how  it  would  affect  the  welfare  of  the  settlers.  The 
moral  effect  of  the  organization  of  the  Committee  re- 
have  upon  the  remainder  of  them,  and  at  the  same  time 
suited  in  checking  to  a  certain  degree  the  depredations 
of  the  criminals,  but  it  did  not  wipe  it  out  entirely.  A 
great  many  of  the  more  timid  ones  abandoned  their  evil 
ways,  but  the  more  daring  were  willing  to  take  a  chance 
and  abide  by  the  consequences,  which  several  of  them 
experienced.  The  Vigilantes  occupied  the  positions  of 
Sheriff,  Judge,  Jury  and  Executioner,  and  when  a  cul- 
prit was  caught  red-handed  his  case  was  summarily  dis- 
posed of  in  about  thirty  minutes,  except  for  the  funeral 
and  burial  services,  which  were  left  usually  for  any- 
body that  cared  to  participate  in  them. 

I  had  a  ranch  in  Texas  during  those  troublous  times, 
and  wras  one  time  wintering  a  herd  of  cattle  near  Fowler 
City,  Kansas.  Consequently  I  had  to  make  a  number  of 
trips  through  that  unsettled  district,  sometimes  on  horse- 
back and  at  others  in  a  buckboard,  and  it  seemed  almost 
invariably  my  good  or  bad  fortune,  as  you  wish  to  call 
it,  to  enter  some  place  or  other  at  a  time  when  a  tragedy 
was  being  enacted. 

I  was  once  crossing  in  a  buckboard  in  the  direction 
of  Englewood,  Kansas,  with  a  consignment  of  eggs  that 
were  beginning  to  suffer  breakage  owing  to  the  rough- 
ness of  the  journey,  and  I  began  to  look  for  a  place  to 
dispose  of  them  to  some  settler.  I  soon  reached  a  place 
that  bore  the  sign,  "Groceries,"  and  there  sold  my  eggs, 
bought  some  tobacco  and  a  few  other  necessaries.  While 
talking  to  the  store-keeper,  I  noticed  a  group  of  men  at 
another  sod  building,  and  I  inquired  of  him  what  they 
were  doing.  "Oh,  nothing  much.  They  have  just  been 
hanging  a  man  over  there."  I  asked  him  what  the  un- 
fortunate had  done.  "Well,"  said  lie,  "he  has  been  steal- 
ing horses."  I  went  out  to  water  my  horses  just 


32  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

as  a  part  of  the  group  were  passing.  Recog- 
nizing two  of  them  I  inquired  of  them  what  the 
fellow  had  done  and  where  they  had  arrested 
him.  They  replied  he  had  been  stealing  horses  both  in 
the  neighborhood  and  in  Clark  county,  Kansas.  The 
sheriff  had  followed  his  trail  and  caught  him  South  of 
where  we  were  then,  and  was  taking  him  back  to  Kan- 
sas. He  was  bringing  him  through  that  section  and  they 
took  him  away  from  the  sheriff  and  hanged  him.  I  asked 
him  if  he  did  not  think  the  punishment  rather  severe.  He 
replied  that  he  did  not  think  so,  and  besides  there  was 
no  use  of  letting  the  sheriff  take  all  the  trouble  of 
bringing  him  back  to  Kansas  where  the  judges  would 
turn  him  loose  in  ninety  days  and  then  he  would  be  back 
at  his  criminality  again.  Mike  Shrugrue  was  the  name 
of  the  sheriff  who  had  the  prisoner  in  charge,  and  a 
braver  man  was  not  to  be  found  in  the  State  of  Kansas, 
but  he  could  not  stand  off  the  Vigilantes.  To  attempt 
anything  of  the  kind  was  to  invite  disaster.  It  would 
be  only  throwing  away  another  life  needlessly,  as  the 
one  was  doomed  under  any  circumstances. 

The  difference  between  the  Vigilantes  and  a  mob 
must  be  thoroughly  understood  to  be  appreciated.  The 
one  stood  for  law  and  order,  was  organized  from  neces- 
sity, as  there  was  not  any  law  than  theirs,  and  was  ap- 
proved of  by  the  residents  of  the  country  in  which  they 
operated  in  the  interests  of  justice;  the  other,  the  mob, 
is  a  hot-headed,  angry,  or  rather  frenzied  crowd  that 
usually  defeats  the  claims  of  justice  by  taking  the  law 
into  its  own  hands  in  most  cases  where  the  law  would 
handle  the  case  in  a  more  satisfactory  manner,  if  al- 
lowed to  take  its  course.  This  mode  of  procedure  is 
always  condemned  by  the  better  class  of  citizens,  while 
the  actions  of  the  Vigilantes,  who  were,  with  few  excep- 
tions, of  the  better  class,  were  performed  usually  through 
stern  necessity,  rather  than  from  anger.  The  trial  given 
was  usually  very  short.  In  most  cases  the  guilt  was  very 
clear,  as  the  criminal  was  nearly  always  taken  manifest, 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  33 

as  he  was  usually  taken  in  the  act  of  committing  a  crime. 
If  the  prisoner  had  a  plausible  story  to  tell,  it  was  in- 
vestigated before  any  further  proceedings  took  place.  If 
he  happened  to  be  one  of  the  notorious  class  of  criminals, 
which  was  commonly  the  case,  the  culprit  was  given 
short  shrift.  Neither  mode  of  procedure  is  to  be  recom- 
mended as  the  safest  course  to  attain  the  ends  of  justice. 

The  greatest  difficulty  to  be  met  with  in  the  interest 
of  justice,  was  in  handling  the  cases  of  "  rustlers, "  as 
there  were  always  some  of  the  same  ilk  on  hand  to  prove 
a  complete  alibi.  Fifty  men  could  be  assembled  on  a 
day's  notice  to  prove  that  the  accused  was  a  hundred 
miles  away  from  the  scene  of  the  crime  when  it  was 
committed.  As  a  consequence  of  this,  most  of  the  ac- 
cused were  released,  or,  if  caught  red-handed  in  their 
rascality,  were  admitted  to  bail,  which  was  furnished  by 
their  companions  in  crime,  and  then  they  forfeited  the 
bail  and  took  leave  to  parts  unknown. 

My  next  experience  occurred  not  long  afterwards 
while  making  a  trip  from  Timms  City,  Texas,  across  the 
country  to  the  Fred  Taintor  ranch.  On  this  occasion 
my  family  accompanied  me  in  the  then  up-to-date  means 
of  travel,  namely,  a  lumber  wagon.  The  trail  was  in 
good  condition  and  we  were  making  good  time.  One  day, 
about  dinner  time,  I  was  keeping  a  lookout  for  a  good 
camping  place  for  the  purpose  of  supplying  the  needs  of 
both  the  family  and  the  cattle.  It  was  impossible  to 
build  a  fire,  as  the  wind  was  blowing  a  gale,  and  the 
prairie  was  very -dry  and  a  fire  would  likely  spread  and 
lay  waste  the  whole  county.  Seeing  the  impossibility  of 
camping,  though  I  had  found  a  suitable  place,  I  deter- 
mined to  push  on  to  some  ranch  where  our  wants  would 
be  supplied.  I  knew  where  a  man  by  the  name  of  King- 
ston, from  Illinois,  had  put  up  a  small  frame  building 
and  had  laid  in  a  stock  of  groceries.  I  finally  reached 
the  object  of  my  search  and  when  approaching  the  store 
I  had  to  pass  another  building  occupied  by  a  family.  As 
I  was  passing  a  woman  stepped  out  and  asked  me  if  I 


34  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

was  going  to  the  store.  I  replied  that  I  was,  and  told 
her  what  my  business  was  there.  She  informed  me  that 
it  was  of  no  use  as  Mr.  Kingston  had  been  murdered  the 
evening  before.  She  showed  me  where  they  were  bury- 
ing him  at  that  moment.  She  also  informed  me  that  one 
of  the  bullets  fired  at  Mr.  Kingston  had  passed  under  the 
cow  she  happened  to  be  milking  at  the  time.  It  is  need- 
less to  say  that  I  did  not  tarry  long  in  that  neighbor- 
hood, but  went  on  until  I  finally  reached  the  Taintor 
ranch,  where  the  latch  string  always  hung  on  the  out- 
side of  the  door.  The  reception  we  had  and  the  supper 
provided  soon  made  us  forget  that  we  had  had  no  din- 
ner. After  a  good  night's  rest  we  proceeded  on  our  way 
to  sunny  Kansas. 

In  the  meantime  I  had  learned  the  circumstances 
leading  up  to  the  Kingston  tragedy.  It  appeared  that 
Mr.  K — had  received  through  the  mail  a  draft  for  sev- 
eral hundred  dollars  and  the  Postmaster  had  mentioned 
the  fact  to  a  neighbor.  The  conversation  had  been  over- 
heard by  two  cut-throats  who  waited  until  they  thought 
it  had  been  cashed  and  then  hatched  up  a  plan  to  murder 
him  for  his  money.  It  seemed  from  the  appearance  of 
things  inside  the  house  that  they  had  intended  to  hang 
him  so  as  to  give  it  the  appearance  of  suicide  and  then 
get  away  with  the  cash.  The  room  was  not  ceiled  and  a 
rope  was  found  hanging  over  a  joist  with  a  noose  in  one 
end.  While  making  their  preparations  it  seemed  that  he 
had  broken  away  from  them  and  had  reached  the  prairie 
in  front  of  the  store,  where  they  shot  him. 

Someone  has  said  that  the  way  of  the  transgressor 
is  hard,  and  in  this  instance  it  proved  undoubtedly  cor- 
rect, for  the  Vigilants  set  out  after  those  men,  ran  them 
down  in  the  brakes  of  a  creek  and  sent  sixteen  bullets 
through  one  of  them ;  the  other  escaped  and  made  his 
way  to  Dodge  City,  Kan.,  where  he  proceeded  to  fill  up 
on  whiskey  and  made  other  arrangements  to  take  in  the 
town.  The  City  Marshall's  opinion  was  that  the  town 
was  too  small  for  two  men  to  run  at  the  same  time,  es- 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  35 

pecially  as  one  was  a  stranger  who  had  not  been  duly 
elected  for  the  position.  As  a  result,  a  gun  argument 
was  introduced  to  settle  the  question  and  the  bad  man 
was  killed  in  the  first  round.  His  funeral  occurred  next 
day  with  all  the  ceremonies  befitting  a  man  of  his  calling 
and  he  was  interred  on  "Boot-hill"  without  flowers  on 
his  casket,  or  tears  shed  over  his  demise.  It  turned  out 
afterwards  that  Mr.  Kingston  had  not  cashed  the  draft, 
so  all  the  money  that  the  rogues  obtained  by  murder  and 
robbery  was  what  was  in  the  cash  drawer  at  the  time. 

The  Vigilants,  for  the  time  being,  performed  valu- 
able services  for  the  settlers  and  were  largely  instru- 
mental in  driving  out  of  that  country  a  lot  of  thugs, 
thieves,  and  cut-throats,  who  were  preying  upon  the 
people.  But,  strange  to  say,  time  proved  that  some  of 
themselves  were  not  entirely  above  suspicion,  as  the  fol- 
lowing incident  will  show.  One  day  as  I  was  riding 
along  the  divide  between  Kiowa  Creek  and  the  Beaver, 
I  met  a  man  whom  I  recognized  to  be  Jake  Smith.  I  use 
the  name  Smith  for  convenience,  as  that  was  not  his 
name,  and  I  do  not  care  to  use  his  rightful  cognomen  as 
he  left  that  country  shortly  afterwards,  went  over  to 
Kansas,  married  a  nice  girl,  went  into  business  and  be- 
came a  leader  socially  and  a  pillar  in  the  Church,  is  gen- 
erally respected  and  is  living  an  upright  life.  Knowing 
him  well,  I  hailed  him. 

"Well,  Jake,"  I  said,  "your  horse  looks  pretty  well 
jaded,  you  must  have  had  a  long  ride." 

Said  he,  "Oh,  that's  nothing,"  I  must  ride  to  Alpine 
tonight  as  there  is  to  be  a  meeting  of  the  Vigilants  at 
eight  o'clock  and  I  want  to  be  there." 

"Do  you  belong  to  the  Vigilants?"  I  asked. 

"Why,  y'es,"  he  replied.  "I  was  one  of  the  first  to 
join  them  and  have  been  working  with  them  ever  since." 

"Well,  Jake,"  said  I,  "you're  a  jewel,  a  regular  dia- 
mond. You  know  that  you  have  been  stealing  cattle 
and  branding  'mavericks'  ever  since  you  landed  in  this 
country,  and  all  the  old-timers  know  it,  and  now  you  are 


36  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

running  your  horse  to  death  to  catch  a  rustler.  That  is 
a  great  joke!" 

"I  see  plainly  that  you  do  not  understand,"  said 
he.  "The  situation  is  this:  I  had  to  join  them  for  self- 
protection  and  also  to  look  after  the  interests  of  my 
friends.  Talk  of  running  my  horse  to  death!  I  have 
just  been  returning  a  favor.  I  have  just  been  up  to  the 
head  of  Clear  Creek  to  tell  Slim  Jim  to  skip,  because  if 
they  catch  him  he  will  stretch  hemp  for  stealing  Old 
Dusenberry's  mules,  and  besides,  Slim  ain't  no  bad  fellow 
when  he  has  a  good  paying  job." 

I  have  never  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Jake 
since,  but  if  I  ever  visit  Kansas  I  shall  be  certain  to  call 
and  see  him  to  find  out  how  he  managed  to  keep  from 
stealing  his  own  goods  and  hiding  them  out  in  the  can- 
yons, through  force  of  habit  after  having  resolved  to 
leave  other  men's  chattels  alone. 

It  seemed  to  be  the  custom  whenever  a  small  settle- 
men  was  formed,  for  some  one  to  put  up  a  grocery 
store,  locate  a  postoffice  and  call  it  by  some  high- 
sounding  title  and  establish  the  nucleus  -of  a  city.  For 
instance,  there  was  Boyd  City,  Beaver  City,  Benton  City, 
Alpine  City,  Neutral  City,  and  Gate  City,  mostly  located 
on  the  divides,  or  flat  prairie  lands  on  the  established 
trails.  "Sod  Town,"  whose  name  was  not  so  high-sound- 
ing as  descriptive,  soon  sprang  into  existence  as  the  Monte 
Carlo,  or  sporting  center  of  the  whole  country.  It 
was  there  at  round-up  time,  each  spring  and  fall,  that 
the  boys  were  accustomed  to  meet  and  run  their  horses, 
discuss  matters  of  common  interest,  and,  in  general,  to 
have  a  good  time.  As  nearly  every  ranch  had  a  fast 
horse  or  two,  also  a  prize  roper,  whenever  the  conven- 
tion took  place,  things  were  bound  to  be  lively  and  at 
times  quite  a  littel  money  changed  hands  on  the  result 
of  a  horse  race,  or  other  contest  of  skill. 

Among  the  famous  horses  of  that  day  that  I  recall, 
were  "Old  Pumpkin,"  a  general  favorite,  S'tick-in-the- 
Mud,"  Greasy  Heels,"  "Wobble  Shanks,"  and  "Sore 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  37 

Toes"  with  a  dozen  or  so  of  others  to  select  from,  and 
each  and  every  one  had  its  backers  and  admirers. 

Prank  Diggers,  Jim  Mahoney,  Sour-dough-Charlie, 
Heel-Fly  Bill,  Snake  Eater,  and  Bull  Joe  were  generally 
the  leading  spirits  at  the  race  course,  and  as  Frank 
Biggers  was  a  lover  of  fair  play,  he  was  usually  chosen 
to  act  as  judge;  besides,  he  had  a  manner  of  enforcing 
his  decisions  which  commanded  respect  and  the  com- 
pliance of  the  wildest  and  wooliest  of  the  assembly. 

For  the  benefit  of  the  readers  who  are  unaccustomed 
to  the  ways  and  phrases  of  the  Western  people,  I  shall 
here  state  that  the  nicknames  of  a  great  many  of  them 
were  acquired  from  their  calling,  or  from  some  incident 
or  occurence  on  the  range.  If  one  were  to  drop  into  the 
Panhandle  country  and  inquire  for  Mr.  Chas.  Deitrich, 
Mr.  Joseph  Parish,  or  some  others  who  were  mostly 
known  by  nickname,  I  doubt  very  much  if  the  inquirer 
would  find  his  man,  but  if  he  were  to  ask  for  Sour- 
dough Charlie,  or  Bull  Joe,  any  one  could  tell  them  at 
once  where  to  find  them  or  what  their  business  was. 
Some  of  the  names  allotted  to  individuals  may  seem 
rude  to  the  elite  of  the  East  and  give  the  impression 
of  vulgarity  and  rudeness,  but  on  acquaintance  one 
would  find  them  good,  kind,  and  obliging  men  as  ever 
saddled  a  broncho  or  branded  a  maverick.  The  congre- 
gation at  Sod  Town  was  composed  of  men  who  knew 
one  another  and  any  money  won  or  lost  was  taken  as 
a  matter  of  course,  and  there  was  no  grief  over  spilt 
milk.  Theirs  was  a  vigorous  life  and  healthy  outdoor 
sport  appealed  to  them.  When  their  sport  was  over, 
they  were  off  to  the  ranch  again  in  good  spirits. 

Among  the  early  settlers  of  Sod  Town  were  two 
young  men,  named  Ellis  and  Fiske,  who  opened  a 
Grocery  and  Supply  store.  They  kept  a  large  stock  of 
provisions,  as  well  as,  boots,  shoes,  slickers,  and  other 
articles  adapted  to  the  trade  of  the  cattlemen.  In  a 
short  time  they  built  up  a  good  trade  and  were  liked 
by  all.  One  night,  two  bad  men,  or  would-be  road 


38  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

agents,  called  at  the  store  and  rapped  for  admission. 
This  was  not  at  all  out  of  the  ordinary  as  the  cattle- 
man 's  business  kept  him  at  all  hours.  It  was  nothing 
unusual  for  him  to  rout  out  the  store-keeper  at  any  hour 
of  the  night  and  have  his  wants  supplied.  On  the 
night  in  question,  when  Ellis  heard  the  rapping,  he 
donned  his  trousers  and  fortunately  had  his  six-shooters 
in  his  waistband.  As  soon  as  he  opened  the  door  of  his 
store  he  was  commanded  to  put  up  his  hands.  He  pro- 
ceeded to  do  so,  but  in  the  act  of  raising  his  hand  he 
drew  his  gun  and  shot  one  of  the  bad  men,  wounding 
him  badly.  Both  turned  to  flee.  Ellis  pulled  down  on 
them  in  their  flight,  and  by  the  aid  of  light  from  a 
prairie  fire  that  was  burning  at  the  time,  fired  at  the 
fleeing  bad  men  and  killed  outright  the  man  he  had 
wounded  at  the  door.  The  other  villian  made  his  escape 
into  the  darkness.  Of  course,  Ellis  was  arrested  and 
taken  before  the  U.  S.  Court  for  that  district  and  was 
honorably  discharged.  He  should  not  have  been  arrested 
for  a  case  of  that  kind,  but  there  were  milage  fees  to  be 
considered,  and  the  marshall  seldom  if  ever  overlooked 
an  opportunity  of  the  kind  for  increasing  his  wealth. 
I  have  never  heard  of  any  other  bad  men  calling  on 
Ellis  and  Fiske  in  search  of  assistance  in  a  financial  way, 
especially  in  the  manner  mentioned  above. 

Sour-dough  Charlie  had  a  little  ranch  of  his  own  011 
Wolf  Creek  where  he  kept  a  few  horses.  He  raised  a 
few  colts  each  year,  and  to  fill  in  his  odd  time  he  tanned 
deer  skin,  made  gloves  for  the  cow  punchers,  and  at 
times  used  to  cook  for  a  round-up  as  he  was  an  artist 
in  that  line  of  work  as  well  as  being  a  very  entertaining 
fellow.  His  chief  work  of  art  was  the  construction  of 
sour  dough  bread  and  he  had  the  reputation  of  being 
a  master  in  the  work.  One  afternoon  a  cow-puncher 
pulled  up  to  the  wagon  and  called  for  his  chuck-a-way, 
and  said  he  wanted  it  at  once  as  he  had  to  return  to  the 
herd  and  stand  guard  while  his  partner  came  for  his 
supply.  The  cook  told  him  he  would  have  to  wait  for 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  39 

awhile  as  tie  did  not  have  things  in  shape  to  get  an 
extra  meal.  Without  further  parley  and  without  any 
warning  the  puncher  picked  up  a  crock  full  of  sour 
dough  and  struck  the  cook  over  the  head  with  it  The 
contents  spilled  over  his  head  and  ran  down  into  his 
eyes  and  mingled  with  his  whiskers.  Right  then  and 
there  was  originated  and  conferred  upon  him  the  title 
of  "Old  Sour-dough  Charlie,"  a  name  that  will  remain 
with  him  as  long  as  he  lives. 

Nicknames  and  titles,  in  this  country,  amount  to 
about  the  same  thing  although  conferred  in  different 
ways  according  to  conditions.  The  man  who  succeeded 
in  accumulating  a  herd  of  cattle  amounting  to  one  or 
two  hundred  was  given  the  name  of  Captain.  If  he 
acquired  five  or  six  hundred,  he  was  addressed  as  Major, 
<ind  a  man  who  through  good  management  and  perse- 
verance numbered  his  stock  by  thousands  became  the 
"Old  Colonel."  There  was  one  very  noticeable  change 
in  the  habits,  manners,  customs  and  character  of  the  men 
who  had  acquired  the  title  of  Captain,  Major,  or  Colonel, 
and  that  was  shown  in  their  dress.  The  styles  of  their 
garments  differed,  they  dispensed  with  the  snake-skin 
band,  they  changed  their  underwear,  frequently  had 
their  whiskers  trimmed  and  hair  cut,  and  occasionally 
became  a  power  in  local  politics.  The  question  was 
never  asked  when  and  how  these  men  became  possessed 
of  such  large  herds  in  such  short  time,  but  to  the  old- 
timer  it  was  plain  that  the  Old  Colonel  was  a  great 
business  man,  or  was  an  expert  with  the  lariat  and  an 
artist  with  the  branding  iron. 

How  different  is  the  conferring  of  titles  in  foreign 
lands,  especially  in  Great  Britain,  where  titles  have  to 
be  ratified  by  supreme  authority  and  approved  of  by 
local  potentates,  and  even  there  we  find  some  titles 
resting  on  tottering  foundations  and  others  hang  by  a 
very  slender  thread  which  is  liable  to  part  at  any  time 
and  leave  the  possessor  in  a  pitiable  mass  of  social 
wreckage.  The  ceremonies  on  such  occasions  are  calcu- 


40  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

lated  to  dazzle  the  eye  and  deceive  the  judgement  of  the 
spectator.     The  sleight-of-hand  performer  and  the  street 
fakir  practice  the  same  sy'stem  and  the  man  with  the 
three-shell  game  and  the  three  card  monte  man  are  all 
on  the  same  level,  but  Royalty  claims  age  and  dignity 
wherever  you  find  it.     When  Capt.  Drake  returned  to 
England  after  his  expedition  of  murder,   plunder,   and 
piracy,  and  his  arrival  was  announced  to  the  Good  Queen 
Bess  who  was  on  the  throne  at  the  time,  she  at  once 
called  for  a  royal  banquet  to  be  held  on  board  his  vessel. 
After  rounding  up  all  her  Royal  roustabouts,  flunkeys, 
and  followers,   she  proceeded  direct  to  the  ship  where 
she  was  going  to  preside  in  state  until  she  had  knighted 
the  Capt.,  whose  hands  were  still  red  with  the  blood  of 
his  murdered  victims.     When  the  time  for  the  ceremony 
was  at  hand,  at  a  motion  of  her  magic  wand  the  Captain 
dropped  to  his  knees  at  her  feet  to  receive  the  power 
and   authority  to  take   and  keep   any  property   on  the 
seas  that  he  felt  like  confiscating;  which  meant  any  that 
he  might  be  able  to  lay  his  hands  on.     The  ceremony 
consisted  of  laying  the   sword   of   authority   across  his 
bald   pate   and  telling  him   that   henceforth  he   was   at 
liberty  to  do  as  he  pleased  and  that  he  should  remain 
her  loyal   subject.     She   then   commanded   him   to   arise 
and  he  did  so,  but  was  so  dazzled  with  the  great  honor 
conferred  upon  him  that  I  do  not  suppose  he  could  tell 
whether  he  was  a  duck  or  a  drake. 

A  prince  can  make  a  belted  Knight, 
A  Marquis,  duke,  and  a,  that, 
But  an  honest  man's  aboon  his  might, 
Good  faith  he  muna  fa'  that. 

The  price  of  titles,  like  other  commcTdities,  depends 
greatly  upon  the  locality  where  they  are  granted  In 
England,  the  title  cost  Sir  W.  Raleigh  'his  head ;  in 
Texas,  a  title  cost  Sour-dough  Charley  but  a  few  loaves 
of  bread.  Imagine  the  difference. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Wild  Horses;    Traits;    Difficulties    of    Catching    Them; 
Preparations  for  the  Same;  Personal  Experiences. 

My  experience  has  taught  me  that  there  has  not 
been  another  animal  on  the  plains  as  inquisitive  and 
suspicious  as  the  wild  horse,  or  mustang,  as  it  is  called. 
The  early  horse  hunter  took  advantage  of  this  charac- 
teristic inquisitiveness  to  aproach  sufficiently  close 
to  effect  his  capture.  This  was  done  by  placing 
a  wagon  sheet,  or  a  bed  quilt  on  a  stake  and  then  hiding 
in  the  bushes  or  grass  in  the  vicinity.  The  hunter  was 
compelled  to  remain  perfectly  quiet  in  his  lair  as  the 
slightest  sound  at  times  would  stampede  the  horses  and 
render  his  quest  futile.  The  mustangs,  on  discovering 
the  strange  object  in  their  neighborhood  would  com- 
mence to  run  round  and  round  in  circles,  reducing  the 
radius  of  the  circle  each  time  until  finally  they  were 
within  a  distance  of  about  two  hundred  yards  of  the 
object  of  their  curiosity.  Then  they  would  stand  per- 
fectly still  and  that  was  the  time  there  was  need  of 
caution  on  the  part  of  the  hunter,  as  the  breaking  of  a 
twig,  the  sound  of  a  voice,  or  any  slight  noise  that 
would  be  likely  to  reach  their  ears,  would  start  them 
off  in  wild  affright  to  return  no  more  as  long  as  there 
were  any  indications  of  disturbance  in  the  neighborhood. 
If  the  hunter  remained  quietly  in  hiding  and  gave  no 
sign  of  his  presence  in  any  manner,  their  curiosity  would 
bring  them  back  again  to  make  a  further  exploration  of 
the  strange  phenomenon.  In  this  manner  the  old  horse- 
hunter  used  to  entice  them  close  enough  to  "crease" 
one  of  them,  as  it  was  called.  This  "creasing"  con- 
sisted in  taking  a  very  careful  and  deliberate  aim  with 
a  rifle  and  shooting  the  horse  in  front  of  the  withers, 


42  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

through  the  top  of  the  neck  close  to  the  spinal  cord. 
This  stunned  or  shocked  him  so  that  he  would  fall  in 
his  tracks,  paralyzed  for  the  time  foeing,  giving  the 
hunter  time,  if  he  moved  swiftly,  to  run  from  his  hiding 
place  with  his  hobble-rope  and  hog-tie  him  before  he 
recovered.  It  frequently  happened  that  the  hunter 
arrived  there  too  late  as  the  horse  often  recovered  from 
his  shock  and  was  up  and  away  before  his  arrival;  or, 
the  shot  being  badly  aimed,  reached  a  vital  spot  and  the 
horse  would  be  dead  before  he  could  get  the  hobbles  on 
him.  If  everything  worked  out  satisfactorily,  and  the 
mustang  was  secured,  he  would  place  a  "Hackamaw" 
on  his  head  in  such  a  way  that  it  could  not  be  shaken 
loose  in  the  struggle  that  was  bound  to  follow.  I  shall 
here  explain  that  a  Hackamaw  is  a  sort  of  halter,  or 
headstall,  made  of  the  end  of  a  lariat  rope  and  put  on 
in  such  a  manner  that  it  holds  the  head  of  the  mustang 
firmly  without  the  danger  of  choking  the  animal.  When 
the  animal  wras  secured,  the  'hunter  gave  his  partner  a 
signal  to  bring  up  the  saddle  horses  that  were  held  at  a 
distance  and  out  of  sight  so  as  not  to  scare  the  herd 
before  capture.  The  fun  commenced  in  'earnest  when 
the  hobbles  were  removed  and  the  captured  mustang  was 
permitted  to  rise.  The  first  thing  on  the  program  was 
to  try  to  escape  back  to  the  herd.  That  failing,  he  would 
go  on  the  war-path  and  it  took  a  skillful  horseman  and 
active  ponies  to  bring  him  under  subjection.  It  usually 
required,  at  least,  two,  each  with  his  lariat  attached  so 
as  to  prevent  the  mustang's  reaching  the  other.  Several 
hours  of  hard  fighting  then  ensued,  but  in  the  end  when 
the  mustang  was  conquered  he  made  the  toughest  and 
wiriest  of  cow-ponies. 

It  very  frequently  happened  that  two  of  these  bands 
of  wild  horses  met  and  then  troble  began.  Every  herd 
was  headed  by  a  stallion  that  exercised  supreme  author- 
ity over  the  whole  band  at  all  times,  and  never  allowed 
any  intruder  to  trespass  on  his  rights  and  privileges.  A? 
a  result,  when  two  herds  encountered  each  other,  war 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  43 

was  at  once  proclaimed  by  the  two  stallions  for  the 
complete  control  and  management  of  both  herds.  Never 
did  knights  of  old  covered  with  armor,  go  forth  to  battle 
with  more  dignity  and  determination  to  protect  their 
lady  loves,  or  to  maintain  the  honor  of  their  own  good 
names,  than  was  displayed  by  those  mustang  stallions. 
With  ears  turned  back  and  their  noses  to  the  ground, 
they  dashed  forth  to  the  deadly  conflict.  The  meeting 
of  the  two  champions  was  of  the  fiercest  nature.  At 
times  they  fought  standing  on  their  'hind  feet  with  their 
teeth  sunk  in  each  others  neck,  and  at  others  they  waged 
their  mortal  combat  standing  on  their  fore  feet  using 
their  hind  feet  as  weapons  of  offence.  Sometimes  these 
battles  terminated  fatally  to  one  or  both  of  the  contest- 
ants, but  more  frequently  ended  when  one  of  the  strug- 
gling brutes  became  so  exhausted  that  he  was  unable  to 
continue  the  fight,  and  acknowledged  defeat  by  retreat- 
ing to  th'e  protection  of  some  canyon  or  sand  hill  with 
his  little  band  of  mares  and  colts,  provided  the  other 
stallion  did  not  have  sufficient  energy  left  to  run  them 
into  his  own  harem  leaving  his  defeated  adversary  to  a 
lonesome  existence  on  the  bleak  prairie. 

I  had  an  old  friend  at  one  time  who  followed  up 
the  pursuit  of  catching  wild  horses  for  a  living,  and  for 
patience  and  perseverence  he  never  had  an  equal  among 
his  contemporaries.  He  met  disaster  and  dis^ppoint- 
ment  with  unflinching  energy  and  returned  to  the  con- 
flict with  unabated  courage.  Though  the  remuneration 
was  small,  there  was  a  fascination  about  the  work  that 
he  could  not  resist.  Before  •entering  upon  an  expedition 
of  this  kind,  he  fitted  up  a  camping  outfit  consisting  of 
a  few  blankets,  a  tarpaulin,  slicker,  coffee  pot,  skillet, 
knife,  fork,  hobble  ropes,  a  supply  of  lariat  ropes,  a 
Winchester,  six-shooters,  and  som'e  bacon,  the  latter  being 
taken  along  for  grease  to  be  used  in  cooking,  as  fresh 
meat  was  to  be  had  at  all  times.  The  prairies  were  alive 
with  antelope,  turkey's,  deer,  and  occasionally  a  stray 
buffalo  was  discovered.  Such  buffalo,  deer,  and  wolves 


44  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

as  were  taken,  were  skinned  and  the  hide  salted  for  sale 
on  the  market.  He  used  no  wagons  in  his  business,  but 
took  two  mares  with  him,  one  to  be  used  as  a  saddle  pony 
and  the  other  for  the  purpose  of  serving  as  a  pack 
animal.  His  favorite  pony  was  called  Topsy,  and  was 
the  mascot  of  the  expedition.  He  had  raised  her  and 
trained  her  from  colthood  and  she  was  trained  to  such 
a  degree  of  perfection  that  she  would  obey  the  sound  of 
his  voice,  whistle,  or  signal  given  by  the  waving  of  his 
hat,  and  never  did  a  railway  engineer,  or  brakeman 
respond  with  greater  promptness  than  did  Old  Topsy 
when  she  received  the  signal  from  her  master.  At  the 
word  of  command  she  would  lie  down  or  rise,  and  owing 
to  this  peculiarity  of  her  training  she  was  frequently 
used  as  a  wind  shield  during  a  cold  storm  from  the  north, 
her  master  making  his  bed  beside  her  for  protection. 

Preparations  for  these  trips  were  usually  made  in 
the  early  autumn,  during  the  month  of  September,  as  the 
heat  of  the  summer  was  somewhat  lessened  by  that  tim^ 
and  he  generally  managed  to  set  out  when  the  moon  was 
new  so  as  to  travel  by  night  if  necessary.  He  was  so 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  country  that  he  knew 
every  creek,  and  canyon,  every  spring  and  waterhole 
where  the  mustangs  were  accustomed  to  get  water.  He 
was  not  compelled  to  scour  the  country  for  his  quarry 
as  every  wild  horse  within  a  range  of  five  miles  seemed 
to  know  by  instinct  the  arrival  of  his  pack  animals  and 
ponies.  Such  uncertainity  of  knowledge  did  not  satisfy 
them,  but  to  satisfy  their  curiosity  they  came  along  on 
the  run  to  make  an  investigation  into  the  character  of 
the  intruders  who  had  so  uncerimoniously  intruded  into 
their  domain.  By  the  time  the  huntsman  had  unpacked, 
had  his  camp-fire  built,  and  was  preparing  his  meal,  they 
would  be  encircling  his  camp,  running,  romping,  and 
playing.  The  stallion  usually  took  the  lead  in  these 
diversions  with  the  mares  and  young  colts  by  their  side 
trying  to  keep  up  to  his  advance.  Finally  they  would 
come  to  a  standstill  and  remain  perfectly  quiet  until 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  45 

some  noise  would  startle  them  and  off  they  would  go 
pell-mell  only  to  return  and  repeat  their  investigation 
into  what  was  the  new  element  that  was  disturbing  the 
peaceful  possession  of  their  range.  This  hunter's  method 
was  different  from  what  was  usually  followed  by  others. 
It  was  not  his  intention  to  excite  or  disturb  the  wild 
nurses  in  any  way;  on  the  contrary  his  object  was  to  ge. 
them  accustomed  to  his  presence,  get  them  acquainted 
with  the  domestic  mares,  and  render  them  peaceful  and 
quiet.  In  a  few  days  his  object  would  be  accomplished, 
and  then  he  proceeded  to  set  the  herd  in  motion  to  drive 
them  back  to  the  settlements  where  they  could  be  cor- 
raled  and  handled.  He  never  permitted  them  to  get  a 
moment's  rest,  day  or  night,  once  he  had  them  in  motion, 
and  as  little  chance  to  graze  as  possible.  In  the  meai 
time  he  saw  to  it  that  his  own  mares  had  every  advan- 
tage possible.  In-  a  few  days,  such  a  system  could  not 
but  have  its  effect  on  the  mustangs  and  they  would  as  a 
consequence  become  more  docile.  Gradually  he  got 
closer  to  them  without  the  danger  of  stampeding  them, 
until  within  the  course  of  ten  days  or  two  weeks  they 
showed  unmistakable  signs  of  weariness  and  weakness 
which  allowed  him  to  get  in  closer  touch  with  them.  In 
fact,  so  much  was  he  in  their  presence  that  they  came  to 
look  upon  him  as  one  of  the  herd.  Then  took  place  the 
working  out  of  his  design.  He  headed  Old  Topsy  for 
home  over  the  hills,  through  the  canyons  and  creeks, 
never  stopping  for  anything,  gradually  moving  along, 
slowly  and  quietly  nursing  them  into  captivity.  Such 
was  the  care  that  he  exercised  that  he  made  no  more 
than  five  or  ten  miles  a  day  on  his  straight  course.  At 
times,  before  the  herd  became  too  wearied,  the  flight  oi 
a  bird  or  the  barking  of  a  coyote  would  stampede  them 
and  thus  he  would  lose  five  or  ten  miles  that  he  had 
gained  with  so  much  difficulty.  On  he  went  after  them, 
doing  over  again  all  that  had  been  done  before.  In  case 
there  were  no  unforeseen  difficulties,  or  accidents,  he 
would  finally  drive  them  into  the  neighborhood  of  some 


46  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

good  strong  corral  where,  with  the  permission  of  the 
proprietor,  he  would  run  them  in  until  such  time  as  he 
would  be  able  to  hobble  the  leaders,  which  usually  re- 
quired a  week  or  more. 

A  mustang  is  so  sensitive  and  observing  that  I  some- 
times thought  he  could  count  the  buttons  on  one 's 
clothes.  In  fact,  I  know,  that  should  one  change  his 
clothing  while  breaking  one  of  them,  he  would  have  all 
the  work  to  do  over  again  until  the  mustang  became  ac- 
customed to  the  change.  He  received  everything  with 
suspicion  and  even  a  fence-post  would  call  for  an  inves- 
tigation. The  corral  was  a  new  world  entirely  for  him 
and  it  took  days  of  patience  and  perseverence  to  induce 
/iim  to  enter  it.  Old  Topsy  would  go  in  and  out  ana 
make  herself  at  home,  but  not  so  with  her  associates,  at 
least  for  quite  a  long  time.  Finally  they  would  venture 
in  little  by  little,  the  hunter  permitting  them  to  pass  in 
and  out  several  times  before  putting  up  the  bars  on  them. 
As  soon  as  the  mustangs  found  themselves  unable  to  get 
out  they  became  badly  frightened  and  excited,  especially 
during  the  absence  of  the  hunter.  His  return  seemed  to 
pacify  them  very  much.  He  had  to  manage  them  with 
great  judgement  until  he  managed  to  hobble  the  leaders, 
which,  as  I  said  before,  took  days  to  accomplish. 

It  is  true  that  he  could  have  roped  and  hobbled 
them  in  a  short  time  once  he  had  them  in  the  corral,  but 
this  was  not  the  way  with  my  friend.  He  said  often 
times  that  once  he  had  gained  their  confidence,  he  could 
not  betray  it.  After  the  mustangs  had  been  corraled  for 
some  time  and  had  grown  accustomed  to  the  presence  of 
men,  then  the  interesting  work  took  place.  They  had  to 
be  broken  to  the  saddle  and  bridle  and  ridden  by  some- 
body, and  I  wish  to  state  that  it  was  a  work  that  re- 
quired an  expert,  all  green-horns  and  tenderfeet  barred. 
Around  all  ranches  was  to  be  found  a  man  whose  sole 
occupation  was  to  do  this  work.  He  offered  to  accom- 
plish the  task  of  reforming  the  wild  mustang  at  from 
two  to  five  dollars  a  head,  and  he  usually  had  the  work 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  47 

assigned  him.  By  the  time  they  were  broken  they  were 
usually  sold  at  a  fair  price  for  that  class  of  stock  while 
the  hunter  made  preparations  for  returning  to  the  plains 
for  another  lot  of  mustangs,  a  work  which  he  seemed  to 
enjoy. 

These  mustangs  did  not  command  a  very  high  price 
as  most  of  them  were  too  small  for  cow-work,  and  too 
light  for  single  drivers.  Sometimes  one  could  pick  up  a 
team  of  these  ponies  and  find  them  the  toughest  and 
wiriest  animals  that  were  ever  hitched  to  a  buckboard. 
They  could  travel  from  sunrise  to  sunset  at  ten  miles  an 
hour  and  never  turn  a  hair.  But  viewed  from  all  angles 
the  business  was  not  a  financial  success  and  the  men 
engaged  in  it  never  cleared  up  any  great  amount  of 
money,  as  I  proved  to  my  own  satisfaction  later  on. 

Before  what  is  now  called  Meade  County  was  estab- 
lished, there  was  nothing  there  but  the  open  prairie.  A 
fence  was  an  unknown  thing  except  where  some  settler 
had  built  one  around  a  stack  of  hay  to  protect  it  from 
the  range  cattle  that  were  roaming  the  plains  in  great 
numbers  in  those  days.  It  was  necessary  for  him  to  do 
this  as  a  small  stack  of  feed  would  be  a  tempting  morsel, 
in  cold  weather,  to  the  thousands  of  cattle  wandering 
loose  and  in  search  of  fodder.  In  case  they  did  succeed 
in  reaching  the  tempting  supply,  it  lasted  about  as  long 
as  a  water  melon  at  a  negro  picnic.  It  had  been  reported 
on  what  I  considered  reliable  authority  that  there  was  a 
black  stallion  running  on  the  flat  between  Crooked  and 
Sandy  Creeks,  about  nine  miles  southeast  of  the  present 
county  seat  of  Meade  county,  Kansas.  The  cowboys  had 
often  tried  to  capture  him,  but  in  every  instance  failed. 
He  was  described  to  me  as  standing  about  fifteen  hands 
high,  which  was  exceptionally  large  for  a  mustang,  with 
long  flowing  mane  and  tail,  and  he  could  trot  faster 
than  any  cow-pony  could  run.  After  weighing  the 
matter  carefully  for  some  time  I  decided  to  go  out  and 
capture  him.  From  the  description  given,  he  was  just 
what  I  wanted  for  a  saddle  horse.  I  determined  to  have 


48  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

him  provided  I  could  enlist  the  services  of  G.  W.  Brown, 
an  old  Indian  scout,  and  former  companion  of  the  buffalo 
range.  He  was,  moreover,  an  expert  with  the  lariat  rope 
and  was  considered  one  of  the  best  trailers  in  the  country. 
The  other  man  I  wanted,  and  whom  I  finally  succeeded 
in  getting,  was  C.  M.  Rice,  formerly  of  Jasper,  Ind.,  a 
veteran  of  the  Civil  war,  an  old  and  experienced  plains- 
man who  knew  every  creek  and  trail  in  the  country. 
After  discussing  the  matter  carefully  in  all  its  different 
aspects,  we  decided  to  capture  him  regardless  of  trouble 
and  expense  attached  to  the  undertaking,  even  though 
it  took  all  summer.  We  had  to  take  a  camp  wagon, 
grain  and  provisions  enough  to  last  several  weeks,  as  we 
would  not  be  able  to  return  for  more  if  we  happened  to 
run  short.  We  took  our  favorite  saddle  ponies  and 
started  early  so  as  to  get  in  operation  as  soon  as  possible. 
It  was  our  intention  to  locate  him  early  in  the  morning 
and  have  the  whole  day  for  the  first  run.  We  were 
fortunate  in  finding  him  shortly  after  daybreak,  but  his 
looks  were  rather  disappointing  as  he  did  not  seem  as 
large  as  he  had  been  pictured  to  me  by  the  cowboys. 
However,  we  were  there  to  capture  him  and  determined 
to  do  so.  One  thing  favored  us  and  that  is  one  of  the 
peculiarities  of  the  mustang,  he  will  not  leave  his  range 
unless  driven  from  it.  He  will  take  his  departure  very 
reluctantly  and  will  return  at  the  earliest  opportunity. 

Our  first  night  was  one  of  rest,  with  nothing  to  dis- 
turb us  but  the  howling  of  the  coyotes  and  the  bawling 
of  the  cattle.  Morning  found  us  up  early  and  ready  for 
the  chase.  We  knew  it  would  be  useless  to  try  to  catch 
him  on  a  straight  run  as  he  would  have,  at  least,  half 
a  mile  start  on  us.  We  decided  to  run  him  in  a  circle, 
keep  inside  of  his  course,  and  keep  him  on  the  run  until 
he  became  jaded  and  exhausted  and  then  let  him  get  a 
chance  to  drink  his  fill  of  water  as  he  would  surely  be 
very  thirsty  after  a  long  gallop.  The  consequence  of 
this  strategy  would  be  that  the  mustang  would  become 
stiffened  and  it  would  be  easy  to  run  him  down  and  rope 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  49 

him.  After  making  the  first  large  circle,  C.  M.  Rice,  seeing 
his  horse  lathered  with  perspiration  that  trickled  down 
from  the  flanks  of  his  horse,  his  favorite  Old  Tom, 
decided  to  return  to  camp  and  prepare  something  to  eat 
for  himself  and  us  on  our  return.  If  we  did  not  return 
by  night-fall  he  was  to  keep  the  camp-fire  burning  to  act 
as  a  beacon  for  our  guidance.  In  order  to  save  our 
horses,  Brown  and  I  decided  that  one  of  us  should  keep 
on  the  chase  whilst  the  other  rested  his  horse.  This  gave 
each  of  us  chance  to  refresh  our  mount  with  water  and 
grass  until  it  came  his  turn  to  take  up  the  pursuit.  In 
the  meantime  the  mustang  was  not  allowed  to  have  a 
respite  from  his  exertions,  but  was  kept  on  the  move 
until  about  three  or  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  Na- 
ture asserted  herself  in  his  case  and  frequently,  after 
that  time,  he  would  stop  to  look  around  and  see  if  his 
pursuers  were  likely  to  give  him  a  chance  to  rest  and 
refresh  himself.  It  was  plainly  evident  that  the  pace 
was  telling  on  him,  but  he  found  that  his  pursuers  gave 
him  no  opportunity  to  rest  his  weary  legs.  Closely  ana 
more  closely  they  came  in  spite  of  all  he  could  do  to 
ward  off  their  unremitting  pursuit.  The  moments  he 
took  to  stop  and  look  around  offered  us  an  opportunity 
to  draw  closer.  Then  we  both  took  up  the  chase  at  the 
same  time.  We  divided  our  forces,  one  going  on  one  side 
of  him  and  the  other  on  the  opposite.  By  this  time  we 
were  within  twenty  rods  of  him.  By  this  strategy  we 
headed  him  for  Gypsom  Creek  in  the  hope  that  when  he 
reached  it  he  would  stop  and  drink  his  fill.  That  would 
give  us  an  opportunity  of  roping  him.  Everything 
worked  out  as  we  had  planned.  When  the  thirsty  brute 
reached  the  water  he  drank  abundantly  of  the  refreshing 
fluid.  It  seemed  as  though  he  would  never  stop.  When 
finally  he  had  his  fill  we  ran  him  off  to  the  mouth  of  a 
canyon  where,  if  once  we  could  get  him  to  enter,  there 
would  be  no  opportunity  of  his  escape  as  there  was  no 
outlet  at  the  other  end.  I  say  none,  or  rather  should 
have  said  there  was  one  but  it  was  practically  out  of  the 


50  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

question  for  him  to  make  it.  It  was  about  a  mile  away 
and  the  road  was  filled  with  boulders  and  sand  heaps 
and  was  up  hill  all  the  way',  and  we  knew  that  in  his 
present  condition  his  wind  would  be  gone  before  he 
could  again  reach  the  open  prairie.  Now  came  the 
opportunity  to  rope  him  if  he  was  to  be  captured  at  all, 
as  there  was  nothing  left  for  him  to  do  but  choose 
between  the  rough  boulders  and  ledges  of  the  other  end 
of  the  canyon,  or  strive  to  evade  us  by  seeking  safety 
in  the  way  he  entered.  Brown  went  around  and  awaited 
his  arrival,  while  I  followed  as  best  I  could  until  I  saw 
him  disappear  at  the  head  of  the  canyon.  Then  I  re- 
traced my  way  and  rode  around  on  the  divide  so  as  to 
be  in  on  the  final  chase.  When  I  came  in  sight  of  Brown, 
I  saw  that  he  had  him  roped  securely,  but  on  reaching 
him  I  discovered  that  he  had  captured  him  in  a  prairie- 
dog  town  and  in  the  struggle  that  followed  the  roping 
he  had  jumped  into  one  of  the  holes  and  broke  his  leg 
between  the  knee  and  the  fetlock,  and  the  bones  were 
protruding  through  the  flesh.  Under  those  conditions, 
as  he  would  be  of  no  value  to  me,  and,  also,  as  it  would 
be  inhuman  to  turn  him  loose  to  suffer  and  starve,  or 
become  the  food  of  mountain  lions,  or  coyotes,  I  thought 
it  best  to  end  his  misery  without  further  delay.  This 
being  done,  we  tightened  up  our  saddle  cinches  and 
returned  to  camp  very  weary  and  much  wiser  than  when 
we  set  forth  in  the  morning.  Thus  ended  my  first,  last, 
and  only  chase  after  a  wild  mustang  stallion  on  the 
plains  of  Kansas.  As  per  agreement,  Rice  had  kept  the 
camp  fire  burning  and  had,  moreover,  prepared  a  supper 
of  hot  beans,  biscuits,  antelope  steak,  and  coffee,  which 
was  a  feast  fit  for  a  king  and  one  which  I  think  no  guest 
of  Delmonico  ever  appreciated  more. 

The  next  morning  we  arose  and  went  to  look  after 
our  ponies.  What  a  pitiful  sight  we  beheld  when  we 
came  upon  them  in  the  secluded  place  where  we  had 
tethered  them !  They  were  gaunt,  covered  and  caked 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  51 

with  perspiration  and  dust  of  the  preceding  day's  chase. 
Canadian,  El  Reno,  Okla. 

We  gave  them  a  good  rub-down  and  plenty  of  food  and 
water,  which  refreshed  them  very  much.  After  a  good 
breakfast,  we  took  a  farewell  look  at  the  camp  and 
returned  to  the  ranch.  The  black  stallion  with  his  flow- 
ing mane  and  tail  became  a  matter  of  past  history  of  the 
plains.  In  conclusion  I  shall  say  that  my  two  companions 
of  the  chase  of  thirty-two  years  ago  are  still  both  hale 
and  hearty  business  nven  in  the  Quee^i  City  of  the 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Further  Reflections  on  Western  Life;  Also  on  the  East; 
Why  I  Came  West;  Some  Men  I  Have  Met.  Cow- 
boy Acquaintances,  etc. 

"When  commencing  to  write  this  semi-historical  work, 
it  was  my  intention  to  confine  myself  to  the  early  settle- 
ment of  "  No-Man  's-Land,"  but  find  that  I  must  include 
the  Panhandle  to  Texas  and  the  South-western  part  of 
Kansas,  as  the  soil,  climate,  and  social  conditions  were 
almost  identical.  The  industries  of  all  three  localities 
were  very  much  the  same,  excepting  that  the  Panhandle 
was  much  better  adapted  to  cattle  raising  than  to  agri- 
culture. In  fact,  farming  was  looked  upon  by  cattlemen 
as  too  menial  an  occupation  for  them  to  engage  in,  and, 
consequently,  they  knew  little  about  it  and  cared 
less.  Their  indifference  to  agriculture  was  such 
that  they  would  prefer  literally  to  starve  to 
death  than  endeavor  to  gain  subsistence  from 
the  soil.  The  difference  between  the  old-time  cow- 
puncher  and  the  Chyenne  Indian  as  agriculturists  was 
very  little.  The  former  might  do  a  little  at  farming  if 
he  knew  how,  and  the  latter  might  know  how  if  he 
would  only  do  a  little  at  it.  It  seemed  to  be  the  height 
of  the  average  cow-puncher's  ambition  to  ride  on  a  fifty- 
dollar  saddle,  wear  a  ten-dollar  Stetson  hat,  a  pair  of 
silver  mounted  spurs,  a  pair  of  ten-dollar  high-heeled 
boots,  leather  leggings,  a  slicker  and  a  forty-five  calibre 
white  handled  six-shooter.  This  made  a  complete  outfit 
to  suit  his  vanity.  Riding  broncos,  roping  .wild  cattle, 
running  races,  and  branding  mavericks  were  his  principal 
business  and  amusement.  Attending  the  spring  and  fall 
round-ups,  and  driving  beef  stock  to  market  rounded 
out  his  season's  work. 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  53 

It  is  true  that  there  are  some  exceptions  to  the  gen- 
eral rule.  As  an  example,  about  twenty-eight  years  ago 
I  became  acquainted  with  a  green  cow-puncher,  fresh 
from  some  Texas  town,  a  tall,  fair-haired  lad,  who  was 
rather  reticent,  but  very  punctual  in  his  work.  He  was 
the  first  out  in  the  morning,  last  in  at  night  and  was 
ready  for  anything  that  was  to  be  done  in  the  meantime. 
His  manner  lacked  the  boisterousness  of  the  swaggering 
swearing,  blow-hard  that  was  very  frequently  encoun- 
tered in  the  days  work.  It  was  apparent  to  all  that  he 
was  a  man  of  reliability  and  integrity.  He  was  em- 
ployed by  R.  M.  Wright  and  Martin  Culver  to  superin- 
tend the  "W-L"  ranch.  He  was  successful  in  his 
management  and  at  the  same  time  displayed  an  honesty 
that  was  something  new  to  some  of  the  settlers  in  his 
neighborhood.  He  never  permitted  a  man  to  rope  an 
animal  until  he  was  certain  of  the  brand,  and  knew  to 
whom  the  property  belonged.  Such  a  man  was  certain 
to  rise  in  the  world  and  today  one  would  find  it  difficult 
to  recognize  in  Mr.  R.  A.  Harper,  president  of  the  First 
National  Bank,  Meade,  Kansas,  the  stripling  greenhorn 
of  thirty  years  ago.  Another  of  the  old-time  successful 
cow-punchers,  who  fought  the  battle  of  life  alone  and 
single-handed  as  cowmen,  farmer,  merchant,  sometimes 
overtaken  by  adversity  but  never  discouraged,  who  plod- 
ded on  until  he  reached  the  top  of  the  financial  ladder 
beyond  the  reach  of  want,  is  Mr.  C.  M.  Rice,  of  El 
Reno,  Okla. 

The  majority  of  the  early  settlers  who  stayed 
throughout  the  first  hard  times,  managed  to  do  fairly 
well,  accepting  the  changed  conditions  as  law  and  order 
moved  in,  while  a  few  developed  foolish  notions  about 
the  curtailment  of  their  freedom,  as  they  called  it,  and 
resented  the  encroachmebt  and  manifested  their  idis- 
position  by  holding  up  trains,  or  other  depredations. 
Such  a  course  of  conduct  invariably  proved  a  failure  and 
brought  disaster  upon  the  defenders  of  such  a  cause. 
The  state  prisons  are  still  harboring  some  of  those  mis- 


54  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

guided  men,  protecting  them  from  themselves  as  well  as 
defending  society  at  large  from  their  peculiar  notions. 
It  may  seem  strange  to  the  reader,  but  the  greater  part 
of  the  so-called  bad  men  of  this  country  came  from  the 
East  where  they  first  conceived  a  false  impression  of 
the  wildness  of  the  West.  The  origin  of  their  idea  arose 
from  the  reading  of  a  poor  class  of  literature.  Such 
reading  created  in  their  young  minds  the  idea  of  being 
"bad  men  of  the  West"  and  they  were  not  long  in 
putting  the  idea  into  practice.  Just  to  mention  a  few 
of  the  most  notorious,  I  shall  set  down  the  names  of 
Billy  the  Kid,  from  New  York,  Dutch  Henry  from 
Michigan,  Sam  Bass  from  Indiana.  I  might  mention 
dozens  of  others  whose  careers  of  iniquity  did  not  last 
as  long  as  those  mentioned  above.  As  for  the  real 
Western-bred  bad  men,  they  were  very  few  in  number 
and  were  usually  driven  to  it  by  being  credited  with  the 
crimes  of  others. 

One  of  the  principal  causes  of  the  development  of  the 
outlaw  was,  as  I  said  above,  the  publication  of  fiction  and 
falsehood  in  such  papers  as  the  New  York  Weeklys  and 
dime  novels.  Tlrese  were  scattered  broadcast  over  the 
country  in  cheap  editions  and  the  result  was  the  creation 
of  false  impressions  of  the  West,  and  at  the  same  time 
inflamed  the  imagination  and  corrupted  the  minds  of 
many  of  the  then  rising  generation. 

Well  do  I  remember  my  introduction  to  the  name  of 
Buffalo  Bill.  It  was  in  the  columns  of  the  New  York 
Weekly,  in  1874,  when  in  a  lumber  camp  in  Northern 
Michigan,  that  I  read  of  his  alleged  engagement  with 
the  chief  of  the  tribe  of  the  Sioux  Indians.  It  ran  as 
follows,  as  near  as  I  can  remember  it:  "They  met  on 
the  plains  and  each  measured  his  chances  to  overcome 
his  adversary,  etc."  It  would  take  no  great  philosopher 
to  tell  that  the  Indian  with  no  weapon  but  the  bow  and 
a  bunch  of  arrows,  stood  but  a  very  meager  chance  with 
Bill  armed  with  two  six-shooters  and  a  Winchester.  "At 
th'e  first  crack  of  Bill's  trusty  rifle  the  wily  savage 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  55 

toppled  over  and  fell  to  the  ground.  Then,  as  if  by 
magic,  about  fifty  braves  galloped  out  of  a  canyon  and 
set  out  to  capture  the  heap-big  pale  face  who  had  slain 
their  chief.  That  purpose  was  more  easily  planned  than 
accomplished,  for  at  the  psychological  moment  Bill  was 
re-inforced  by  his  favorite  scouts,  Little  Buckshot  and 
Hotfoot  John.  After  a  brief  engagement  in  which  they 
killed  about  fifteen  warriors,  they  retreated  to  head- 
quarters for  more  re-inforcements."  This  is  but  a  sample 
of  the  lies  that  filtered  through  the  columns  of  the 
Eastern  papers  regarding  the  Indian  outbreaks  of  the 
West,  and  the  worst  part  of  it  was  that  such  trash  was 
believed  by  thousands,  myself  among  the  number. 

Whenever  I  read  of  the  hair-breadth  escapes  of 
'•'  Dare-devil  Dick,"  "Shuffle-foot  Sam,"  "Moccasin 
Mike,"  and  "Goodeye,  the  Scout,"  I  felt  that  I  would 
like  to  take  a  hand  in  some  of  those  adventures,  having 
had  a  rather  fair  training  in  Canada  by  attending  the 
county  fairs,  and  having  had  the  advantage  of  a  course  of 
training  in  collar-and-elbow  wrestling  under  Prof.  John 
Lennon.  Besides  these  advantages  I  was  rather  profi- 
cient in  the  hop-sted-and-leap,  high  jumping,  high 
kicking,  foot  racing,  but  not  in  shin  kicking. 

Shin  kicking  was  introduced  into  Canada  by 
Cornishmen.  As  I  have  never  seen  it  practiced  in  this 
country  I  shall  endeavor  to  describe  it  for  the  advantage 
of  the  reader.  Like  all  games  of  competition  it  had  its 
champions.  On  occasions  of  merriment  it  was  customary 
to  indulge  in  this  sport,  though  I  do  not  think  that 
everyone  will  agree  with  me  that  it  was  a  sport.  When 
the  crowd  had  assembled  and  some  preliminary  feats 
of  skill  were  performed,  then  a  man  with  a  voice  on  him 
like  the  Bashan  bull  would  announce  in  stentorian  tones 
that  the  champion  shin-kicker  was  requested  to  appear. 
A  ring  was  immediately  formed  by  the  bystanders  lock- 
ing arms.  Into  this  ring  so  formed  the  champion  threw 
his  hat  as  a  challenge  to  all  and  each.  After  fifteen 
minutes  delay  if  no  one  appeared  to  take  up  the  chal- 


56  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

lenge,  the  champion  retained  his  title  by  default,  and 
to  add  to  the  occasion  a  prize  of  some  kind  was  added 
as  a  reward  for  his  willingness  to  entertain  them  by 
his  skill.  If  an  opponent  stepped  into  the  enclosure, 
judges  were  chosen  and  preparations  made  for  a  battle 
royal.  First,  the  shoes  of  the  contestants  were  examined 
by  the  judges  to  see  that  there  were  no  spikes,  nor  toe- 
plates,  and  to  see  that  the  shoes  were  the  common  clog 
type.  Then  their  trousers  and  drawers  were  rolled  back 
above  the  knees  leaving  the  leg  bare  from  the  knee  cap 
to  the  shoe  top.  Things  were  then  ready  for  the  per- 
formance. They  caught  each  other  by  the  shoulders  and 
at  the  dropping  of  a  hat,  or  other  signal,  the  battel  was 
on.  Kicking  as  high  as  the  knee  was  called  a  foul  and 
judgement  rendered  accordingly.  It  required  great  skill 
and  agility  to  take  part  in  a  contest  of  the  kind.  From 
what  I  can  hear,  the  game  has  fallen  into  oblivion  as 
times  have  changed  the  notions  of  games  of  the  kind. 
For  myself  I  did  not  indulge  in  it  very  freely  as  I  felt 
that  my  legs  lacked  sufficient  side  action  to  permit  me  to 
become  sufficiently  expert  at  it  to  issue  a  challenge  to 
the  champion. 

Returning  to  the  thread  of  my  story,  I  must  say 
that  after  reading  several  numbers  of  the  New  York 
Weekly,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  Buffalo  Bill  was 
getting  short  handed,  and  that  unless  he  received  some 
help  rather  soon  the  Indians  would  drive  him  out  of  the 
country  and  the  advantages  already  gained  by  his 
prowess  would  be  lost  to  succeeding  generations.  With 
such  ideas  running  through  my  head,  I  bought  a  railway 
ticket  and  started  West  to  look  over  the  field  and  see 
for  my  own  satisfaction  how  things  were  getting  along. 
I  stopped  off  at  Leavenworth  and  made  the  acquaintance 
of  several  military  men  stationed  at  the  fort.  They 
seemed  to  know  nothing  of  the  Indian  troubles  as  pub- 
lished in  the  Eastern  papers.  Thinking,  perhaps,  that 
they  might  not  be  well  informed  on  the  matter,  I  left 
that  place  and  set  out  for  Topeka.  I  was  certain  that 


OB  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  57 

the  officers  there  would  know  something  definite  about 
affairs  of  the  kind.  I  made  inquiries  and  soon  found 
that  they,  like  all  politicians,  were  too  busy  fixing 
political  fences  to  pay  any  attention  to  such  matters. 
The  nearer  I  approached  the  seat  of  war,  the  less  I  heard 
about  it.  I  continued  my  journey  and  finally  reached 
Dodge  City,  Kansas,  and  secured  lodging  in  the  Western 
Hotel,  managed  by  a  genial  host,  Dr.  Gallard. 

As  I  arrived  there  after  dark  I  did  not  venture  out 
until  I  had  a  good  night's  rest  and  a  hearty  breakfast. 
Next  morning  I  took  up  my  position  on  the  porch  to 
take  in  a  view  of  the  surroundings,  and  I  confess  they 
looked  strange  and  weird  to  me.  I  had  been  told  that 
Dodge  City  was  the  ante-chamber  of  the  Infernal  Reg- 
ions; that  the  temperature  began  to  rise  at  Great  Bend 
and  did  not  return  to  normal  until  one  crossed  the  Colo- 
rado line ;  that  the  population  was  made  up  of  cut-throats 
and  thieves;  that  vice  and  crime  walked  brazenly  in  the 
streets,  while  virtue  and  innocence  were  unknown  in  that 
region  of  iniquity.  Funerals  were  reported  to  me  to  be 
held  every  morning,  to  bury  those  killed  during  the  pre- 
ceding night.  The  cemetery  where  the  unfortunates 
were  to  find  their  last  resting  place  was  called  "Boot 
Hill,"  because  those  who  were  buried  there  were  laid  to 
rest  with  their  boots  on.  The  above  impression  is  only  a 
sample  of  what  I  had  gleaned  from  the  Eastern  journals. 
From  where  I  took  my  stand  I  could  see  thirty  or  forty 
cow-ponies  tied  to  the  hitch  racks.  Each  pony  wore  a 
good  saddle  with  a  Winchester  in  a  scabbard  hanging  at 
the  side.  After  viewing  the  situation  for  some  time,  and 
not  hearing  any  shooting,  nor  seeing  any  funerals,  as 
everything  appeared  peaceful  and  quiet,  I  decided  to 
take  in  the  sights,  although  I  confess  I  had  a  rather 
creepy  feeling  when  I  ventured  out.  I  felt  somewhat 
encouraged,  as  I  remembered  I  was  wearing  a  Stetson 
hat,  and  a  pair  of  high-heeled  boots,  which,  from  the  re- 
ports I  had  received,  were  considered  the  passport  to  the 
best  society  in  those  days.  I  crossed  the  railroad  tracks 


58  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

which  ran  up  Main  street,  and  took  my  course  along  the 
sidewalk,  encountering  in  my  way  men  with  their  pant- 
legs  in  their  boots,  wearing  wide-leafed  sombreros  with 
suakeskin  bands  around  them,  with  wide  cartridge  belts 
around  their  waists  supporting  six-shooters  large  enough 
to  kill  a  buffalo.  Everyone  I  met  seemed  to  be  peaceable. 
The  only  representative  of  the  weaker  sex  I  encountered 
was  a  lady  dressed  in  fine  style  with  her  face  painted 
and  powdered,  her  hair  done  up  a  la  mode,  and  decked 
out  in  a  mother-hubbard  large  enough  to  cover  a  corn 
shock. 

To  my  great  surprise  I  spent  the  first  day'  in  Dodge 
City  without  any  evidence  of  shootings  or  funerals,  and 
in  my  meanderings  about  the  place  formed  the  acquaint- 
ance of  men  who  afterwards  proved  themselves  to  be  as 
high-principled  as  could  be  found  in  the  whole  country. 

The  horses  that  I  had  seen  hitched  to  the  racks,  were 
all  ridden  across  the  river  to  the  different  herds  to  stand 
guard  over  the  cattle  and  prevent  stampedes.  Some  of 
the  herds  were  waiting  to  be  shipped,  while  others  were 
rounded-up  to  drive  them  to  the  branding  pens,  after 
which  they  would  be  turned  back  to  the  range.  In  this 
way  the  natural  increase  of  the  herd  was  maintained  for 
the  owner. 

N,ext  morning  I  set  out  with  a  better  opinion  of  the 
town  and  of  its  inhabitants.  I  found  the  same  ponies 
tied  to  the  same  racks,  and  the  streets  full  of  wagons, 
some  loading  for  the  different  ranches,  others  at  the  shop 
for  repairs.  I  found  the  river  banks  on  both  sides  lined 
with  campers,  a  mixed  lot  of  immigrants,  looking  for 
land,  freighters  resting  their  stock,  horse  traders,  Mexi- 
cans, and  a  multitude  of  others  with  their  old-time  prai- 
rie schooners.  Everybody  was  busy,  some  greasing  their 
wagons,  others  mending  harness,  repairing  ox  yokes,  or 
oiling  and  refitting  six-shooters  and  Winchesters.  The 
stock  had  all  been  turned  loose  in  the  care  of  herders 
who  remained  with  them  to  keep  them  from  straying  off, 
and  who  would  bring  them  in  when  they  were  required. 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  59 

The  old  familiar  camp  kettle  and  coffee  pot  were  kept 
simmering  over  a  slow  fire  so  as  to  have  everything  hot 
at  meal  time.  When  the  noon  hour  arrived,  the  tail  gate 
of  the  wagon,  which  was  the  door  of  the  grub-box,  was 
let  down  to  form  a  table.  Each  man  found  for  himself 
a  plate,  knife,  fork,  and  tin  cup  to  help  himself  when 
the  meal  was  ready.  As  soon  as  dinner  was  over,  they 
scattered  again  through  the  town,  some  to  the  saloon, 
others  to  the  dance-halls,  others  to  their  trading,  or  to 
make  arrangements  for  their  next  load  of  freight.  After 
spending  some  time  in  observing  all  that  was  to  be  seen, 
I  returned  again  to  the  town.  As  I  was  walking  up  the 
street  I  overheard  a  conversation  between  two  cow- 
punchers  whom  I  afterwards  found  to  be  known  as 
"Broncho  Jack"  and  "Slim  Jim."  They  were  arguing 
about  Slim's  ability  to  ride  a  broncho  called  "Gabe,"  that 
Jack  had  brought  to  camp  that  morning.  This  argument 
led  to  the  general  result — not  a  fight,  as  I  supposed  it 
would,  but  to  a  bet.  The  conversation  ran  about  as  fol- 
lows: 

S.  J. — S'ay,  Jack,  I  see  you  bringing  in  Old  Gabe  this 
morning.  What  are  you  dragging  that  old  skate  around 
for?  Why  don't  you  shoot  him,  or  don't  y'ou  want  to 
waste  a  cartridge?  Going  to  sell  or  trade  him? 

B.  J. — Oh,  I  just  brought  him  in,  as  I  thought  some 
tenderfoot  might  want  to  take  his  lady-love  out  for  a 
ride,  and  Gabe  would  afford  some  fun. 

S.  J. — You  don't  suppose  any  tenderfoot,  nor  any- 
body else  wants  to  be  seen  riding  that  old  crow-bait 
around  with  a  young  lady?  He  can't  travel  fast  enough 
to  work  up  a  sweat. 

B.  J. — Can't  he?  He  has  enough  life  and  vinegar  in 
him  to  throw  any  puncher  on  the  "81"  ranch,  and  don't 
you  forget  it! 

S.  J. — Oh,  pshaw !  Jack,  you  talk  like  an  old  parrot 
my  mother  used  to  have  down  in  San  Antonio.  He  would 
repeat  anything  he  h'eard  and  when  he  could  not  hear 
anything,  he  talked  to  himself. 


60  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

B.  J. — Money  is  what  talks  in  Dodge  City,  and  I'll 
bet  you  five  dollars  you  can't  ride  that  broncho  two 
blocks  without  getting  thrown. 

S.  J.— I'll  take  that  bet  if  you'll  make  it  three 
blocks.  I  don't  care  about  short  rides.  Why,  I  can  ride 
all  over  the  old  goat  and  make  cigarettes  while  doing  it. 

B.  J. — Say,  Slim;  that  old  horse  will  throw  you  so 
high  that  the  sparrows  will  build  nests  in  your  leggins 
before  y'ou  come  down. 

S.  J. — That  will  be  all  right!  Where  have  you  got 
that  old  mouse-colored  critter,  and  where  do  you  want 
the  money  put  up? 

B.  J. — He's  around  here  in  Cox's  corral,  and  we  can 
put  the  money  up  in  Kelly's  hands. 

S.  J. — All  right!  Let's  go  and  put  the  money  up 
and  get  down  to  business. 

I  went  along  to  see  the  fun,  and  especially  to  see 
how  it  would  terminate.  We  entered  a  saloon  finely  fur- 
nished, with  a  mirror  behind  the  bar  that  cost  more  than 
the  average  160-acre  farm  in  that  country.  WTe  ap- 
proached a  big,  two-fisted,  well-dressed  man  who  stood 
before  the  bar.  Jack  addressed  him  as  Mr.  Kelly,  the 
man  decided  upon  to  hold  the  stakes.  He  explained  his 
mission  and  asked  him  to  hold  the  money  pending  the 
test  of  horsemanship.  Mr.  Kelly  replied,  "I'll  hould  any- 
thing yese  give  me,  but  I  would  loike  to  know  what  will 
be  done  with  the  money  in  case  the  young  man  is  kilt." 
"Oh,"  says  Jack,  "just  treat  the  crowd  and  let  the  bal- 
ance go  to  the  house."  "All  right,"  said  Kelly.  Slim 
agreed  to  the  proposal. 

B.  J. — Well,  Slim,  you  had  better  take  a  cold  drink 
before  you  start,  or  make  arrangements  to  have  some  one 
throw  you  a  bottle  of  water,  as  the  old  pony  will  throw 
you  so  high  that  you  may  die  of  thirst  before  you  come 
down. 

S.  J.— Never  mind!  I'll  take  that  drink  after  the 
job  is  done.  Let's  go  and  get  busy. 

By  this  time  quite  a  crowd  had  collected  and  set  out 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  61 

to  see  the  fun.  I  joined  them  for  the  same  purpose.  It 
was  but  a  short  distance  to  Cox's  corral.  When  we  ar- 
rived there,  Slim  said  to  Jack,  "Go  in  and  rope  your  old 
dry  land  turtle.  Bring  him  out  here  and  I'll  see  what  I 
can  do  for  him." 

Jack  went  in  and  pitched  his  rope  on  a  sleepy-look- 
ing, pot-bellied,  dun-colored  pony  that  would  weigh  in 
the  neighborhood  of  eight  hundred  pounds,  and  led  him 
into  the  street.  Slim  procured  his  saddle,  bridle,  and 
blanket,  and  proceeded  to  saddle  him.  He  first  put  on 
the  bridle  and  then  put  a  gunny-sack  over  it.  The  pur- 
pose of  this  was  to  blindfold  him  till  the  saddling  was 
complete.  When  the  saddling  began,  Old  Gabe  stood  per- 
fectly quiet,  except  to  take  a  few  short  steps,  apparently 
to  make  sure  that  all  of  his  four  feet  and  legs  were  there. 
As  soon  as  he  was  saddled,  Slim  said  to  Jack,  "When  I 
crawl  his  humrp,  you  take  off  the  gunny-sack  and  I  will 
take  a  little  ride."  As  soon  as  the  sack  was  removed, 
Old  Gabe  put  his  nose  to  the  ground  and  went  to  buck- 
ing and  bawling  like  an  old  cow.  He  bucked  about  six 
or  eight  rods,  but  found  he  could  not  throw  Slim  in  that 
manner.  Then  he  stood  straight  up  on  his  hind  feet  and 
fell  over  backwards.  As  soon  as  he  struck  the  ground, 
Slim  was  standing  beside  him.  When  he  regained  his 
feet  Slim  was  on  his  back,  and  then  the  bucking  and 
bawling  began  in  earnest.  He  did  the  figure  eight  sev- 
eral times,  jumped  up  and  turned  half-way  'round  and 
repeated  the  same,  going  in  the  opposite  direction,  alter- 
nately. When  he  found  that  this  was  not  successful  he 
headed  for  an  alley  close  by,  bucking  and  bawling  all 
the  time.  He  worked  like  a  cyclone  among  a  lot  of  oil 
barrels  and  dry  goods  boxes,  wheel-barrows,  and  obstacles 
of  all  kinds  that  littered  the  alley.  He  drove  his  way 
through  that  strange  assortment  of  difficulties  until  he 
reached  the  open  street.  Then  Slim,  by  means  of  the 
application  of  spurs  and  quirt  got  him  into  a  gallop. 
Then  I  knew  that  the  battle  was  over  and  Old  Gabe  had 
met  his  master.  Slim  rode  back  to  the  crowd  and  dis- 


62  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

mounted,  and  he  and  Jack  went  over  to  Kelly's  to  col- 
lect the  wager.  Then  the  bantering  was  continued,  as 
follows : 

B.  J.— Well,  Slim,  how  does  it  go? 

S.  J. — Oh,  not  bad.  I  guess  I'll  take  that  cold  drink 
you  spoke  of.  I  feel  a  little  thirsty. 

B.  J. — Yes,  and  I  reckon  you  feel  a  little  bit  sore,  too. 

S.  J. — Oh,  shucks !  he  was  a  little  bit  fussy,  but  he 
is  nothing  like  those  outlaw  horses  on  the  81  ranch. 


CHAPTER  IX 

Getting  Acquainted  With  the  West — The  Character  of 
the  Cow-boy — A  Cow-boy's  Love  Affair,  Etc. 

Next  day  I  began  to  breathe  easier  as  I  had  not  wit- 
nessed any  shooting  scrapes,  nor  funerals,  so  I  felt  rather 
safe  in  walking  the  streets,  although  I  was  rather  sus- 
picious of  anybody  I  met  wearing  a  six-shooter.  Never- 
theless, I  kept  on  the  move,  endeavoring  to  find  where  I 
could  locate  a  good  homestead,  as  that  country  was 
nearly  all  open  and  unsettled.  In  my  wanderings  I  hap- 
pened into  Cox's  feed  yard  where  Broncho  Jack  kept  his 
horses.  I  entered  the  camp  house  and  found  Jack  and 
Slim  Jim  sitting  on  a  bench  and  there  was  every  evi- 
dence to  show  that  they  had  been  indulging  too  freely 
in  "Kelly's  Sovereign  Remedy  for  a  Sour  Disposition." 
They  seemed  very  confidential  in  their  conversation,  and 
I  could  not  help  overhearing  it.  It  ran  about  as  follows : 

S.  J. — Jack,  do  you  know  that  old  nester  that  settled 
on  the  flats  out  on  Crooked  Creek? 

B.  J. — No,  I  don't  know  him,  but  I  heard  there  was 
a  fellow  out  there  going  into  farming  and  raising  fine 
stock. 

S.  J. — Well,  he's  there  all  right,  and  has  two  of  the 
prettiest  daughters  I  ever  saw. 

B.  J. — What  has  that  to  do  with  you? 

S.  J.  It  has  this  to  do  with  me.  I  am  done  ranch- 
ing. I  am  going  to  drop  off  this  old  broncho  and  will 
step  right  in  between  the  old  man's  plow  handles  and 
there  I'll  stay'  until  removed  by  death,  or  the  County 
Sheriff. 

B.  J. — Have  you  had  any  introduction  to  those 
young  ladies,  or  what  is  the  matter  with  you?  Have  you 
taken  leave  of  your  senses  and  gone  wild? 


64  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

S.  J. — I  never  had  an  introduction  to  them,  but  I 
met  them  at  the  post-office  and  they  had  a  nosebag  full 
of  letters  and  a  wheel-barrow  full  of  papers  and  books. 
Oh,  I  tell  you  they  are  educated,  or  what  would  they 
want  with  all  that  printed  stuff.  I  am  going  farming, 
that  is  what  I  am  going  to  do. 

B.  J. — Now  I  know  you  are  daffy.  Talk  about  farm- 
ing, don't  you  know  it  has  not  rained  out  there  in  the 
last  eighteen  months.  I  met  a  traveling  •evangelist  the 
other  day  who  told  me  that  he  almost  had  to  forego  the 
pleasure  of  immersing  a  class  of  six  cow-punchers  for 
want  of  sufficient  water  to  perform  the  ceremony.  He 
was  afraid  that  if  it  did  not  soon  rain  he  would  lose  them 
sure  as  he  would  not  be  able  to  get  them  again  if  they 
went  back  to  the  ranches  before  they  received  his  minis- 
trations. 

S.  J.— Oh,  that  is  all  right  about  the  rain !  The  old 
man  does  not  need  rain.  He  has  a  wind-mill  and  a 
trough  to  water  his  stock,  and  I  can  tell  you  that  his 
stock  is  first  class.  I  saw  some  of  them  and  the  milch 
cows  had  bags  on  them  the  size  of  washtubs  and  the 
teats  hung  down  like  baseball  bats.  He  is  well  fitted  in 
every  way.  He  has  a  top  buggy  with  a  high  back  and  a 
low  seat  all  for  himself.  He  wears  a  white  shirt  just  as 
some  folks  do  in  Texas  when  they  are  running  for  office. 
I  met  his  boy  on  the  train  a  day  or  so  ago  and  he  shows 
good  raising.  He  had  shoes  and  stockings  on,  and  he  is 
no  more  than  fifteen  years  old.  He  also  had  on  a  collar 
and  tie  and  did  not  swear  once  while  I  was  talking  to 
him.  I  asked  him  where  his  pa  had  got  the  big  stock 
and  he  said  that  they  came  from  Ohio,  and  that  they 
were  Poland  China  or  something  like  that. 

B.  J. — Let  me  tell  you,  Slim,  if  that  old  man  is  from 
Chicago  and  is  a  Republican,  he  has  no  use  for  a  cow- 
puncher  or  a  Democrat,  no  more  than  a  pig  has  for  side 
pockets.  He  would  not  want  you  to  picket  your  horse 
on  the  trail  in  front  of  his  place,  nor  to  holler  in  his 
rain  barrel,  much  less  going  to  call  on  one  of  his  daugh- 


CHEYNNE  INDIAN  GIRL 


OB  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  65 

ters.  Why,  they  scare  the  children  back  there  and  com- 
pel them  to  be  good  by  telling  them  that  the  nasty,  old, 
long-haired  cow-puncher  will  take  them  away  to  the 
ranch  where  there  is  nothing  but  wild  cattle,  cow-punch- 
ers, tarantulas  and  centipedes,  and  a  lot  of  other  reptiles. 

S.  J. — Well,  I  have  to  leave  you  Jack,  and  the  next 
time  I  see  you  I  shall  be  on  my  honeymoon  trip.  I  am 
now  on  my  way  to  the  farm  to  see  the  lady  that  I  expect 
to  soon  be  Mrs.  Slim  Jim. 

B.  J. — Good-bye,  Jim.    Good  luck  to  you ! 

About  two  weeks  afterwards,  Broncho  Jack  and  I 
were  seated  on  the  bank  of  Crooked  Creek  discussing  the 
situation,  whether  the  opportunities  for  making  money 
were  better  in  hunting  or  picking  bones,  catching  mus- 
tangs, or  blacksmithing.  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  last  was  the  most  conducive  to  wealth  just  then,  and 
later  on  opened  up  a  shop  there.  During  our  conversa- 
tion Slim  Jim  rode  up.  Throwing  the  reins  over  his 
pony's  head,  he  dismounted  and  shook  hands.  Slowly 
he  rolled  a  cigarette  and  began  to  unbosom  himself  to 
Jack. 

"Say1,  Jack,"  said  Slim,  "you  remember  what  you 
told  me  in  the  camphouse  in  Dodge  City  the  day  I  left 
you.  You  recollect  saying  what  a  consarned  fool  I  was 
about  that  young  lady,  and  what  you  thought  of  the  old 
man?  Say,  I  hope  to  die  and  go  to  heaven  if  every  word 
of  what  you  told  me  was  not  true.  I  have  ridden  for 
two  days  to  tell  you  what  kind  of  a  durn  fool  I  am.  You 
are  a  fortune  teller,  a  prophet,  a  prognosticator.  I  had 
not  ridden  out  to  Five  Mile  Creek  until  he  got  to  solilo- 
quizing with  myself.  You  know  all  cow-punchers  do  that 
out  on  the  prairie !  Well,  I  got  to  fixing  up  how  to  act, 
what  to  do  and  say  when  I  got  out  there  where  the  young 
lady  lives.  I  had  read  a  society  book  that  some  fellow 
from  back  East  had  left  at  the  ranch  once.  There  was 
some  of  it  torn  out,  but  there  was  a  lot  of  it  left  and  I 
learned  a  whole  lot  out  of  it,  and  I  was  going  to  govern 
myself  accordingly.  It  said  that  a  young  man  in  com- 


66  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

pany  after  taking-  his  seat,  should  sit  erect  and  throw 
his  head  back,  keep  his  knees  close  together,  and  that 
chewing  tobacco  or  smoking  cigarettes  was  not  good 
form.  Under  no  circumstances  should  the  young  man 
wear  spurs,  carry  a  gun,  especially  in  the  company  of 
the  young  lady  with  whom  he  is  anyways  intimate.  I 
guess  that  book  was  written  for  the  Texas  trade,  as  there 
was  a  proviso  that  gun-wearing  would  be  permissible 
if  there  were  other  gentlemen  present.  If  there  was  any- 
thing about  the  disposal  of  the  hands,  it  must  have  been 
torn  out  or  I  forgot  it.  It  was  most  likely  torn  out,  as 
that  crowd  of  boys  at  the  ranch  would  tear  the  leaves 
out  of  their  mother's  Bible  to  make  a  cigarette.  I  can 
ride  a  horse  or  throw  a  rope,  but  what  to  do  with  my 
hands  when  I  entered  the  house  was  beyond  me.  I  knew 
how  to  hold  my  head,  chest,  and  knees,  but  I  could  not 
for  the  life  of  me  figure  out  what  to  do  with  those  hands. 
I  felt  as  if  each  hand  was  as  big  as  a  ham  and  the  nearer 
I  aproached  the  house,  the  larger  they  seemed  to  grow. 
I  felt  pretty  much  like  a  Hottentot.  He  is  usually  pic- 
tured with  a  very  depleted  wardrobe.  He  has  no  books 
of  instruction  on  the  art  of  going  into  society,  and  I  am 
of  the  opinion  he  had  just  as  much  trouble  with  his 
hands  as  I  had.  I  guess  he  just  folded  his  hands  across 
his  manly  chest  and  backed  in.  By  the  time  I  arrived  at 
the  Mulberry  Ranch  I  had  decided  to  do  all  I  knew  and 
trust  to  luck  for  the  rest.  When  I  had  staked  out  my 
pony,  I  went  in  and  slicked  up  some.  I  washed,  combed 
my  hair,  brushed  my  clothes,  and  then  took  about  three 
fingers  of  old  Tom  Duggan's  best  bourbon,  not  as  a  stim- 
ulant, but  to  put  some  color  in  my  cheeks.  As  soon  as 
the  bourbon  began  to  show  some  of  its  efficacy,  I  put  on 
a  couple  of  rings  I  had  bought  in  Dodge  and  headed  for 
the  old  man's  ranch,  letting  my  hands  take  care  of  them- 
selves. In  my  generosity  of  feeling  I  pictured  myself 
being  invited  to  supper  and  perhaps  even  being  requested 
to  spend  the  night  at  the  old  man's.  With  an  eye  to  put- 
ting an  appearance  on  things  I  was  going  to  try  to  trade 


OK  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  67 

some  long-horned  stock  for  some  of  his  short-horns.     I 
was  in  terror  lest  the  young  lady  I  was  yet  to  choose, 
would  smell  my  breath,  and  if  the  old  man  and  his  family 
were  prohibitionists,  I  knew  it  would  be  all  up  with  my 
chances.     However,  I  was  encouraged  in  the  knowledge 
of  the  fact  th.  t  this  was  to  be  my  first  call  and  I  was 
not  likely  to  get  within  breath-smelling  distance  of  the 
lady  of  my  choice.    Regardless  of  consequences,  I  turned 
in  and  rode  up  to  the  hitching  post,  dismounted,  took 
off  my  spurs  4*.:d  my  gun,  and  then  set  out  for  the  house. 
It  seemed  miles  from  that  hitching-post  to  the  front  door. 
I  finally  covered  the  distance  and  rapped  gently  on  the 
panel  as  I  did  not  want  them  to  think  I  was  one  of  those 
rough,  roaring,  cow-punchers — the  kind  you  mentioned. 
I  listened  attentively  for  one  of  those  gentle  footfalls,  or 
the  sound  of  an  angelic  voice  bidding  me  to  enter.     I 
imagined  once  I  heard  the  rustle  of  a  silk  dress  but  I  am 
satisfied  now  that  I  was  mistaken  as  I  believe  the  sound 
was  caused  by  the  girls  husking  roasting  ears  for  supper. 
You  know  that  husking    green    corn    makes  a  kind  of 
squeaking  noise.    I  did  not  have  long  to  wait  as  I  heard 
the   sound   of  footsteps — the   kind   a   bull  moose  makes 
when  in  trouble.     The  door  was  thrown  open  savagely 
and  I  was  confronted  by  an  old  man  who  weighed  about 
two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds.    He  had  a  face  like  a  full 
moon  with  side  whiskers  to  match  and  a  moustache  that 
resembled  a  second-hand  shoe  brush.     He  wore  a  white 
shirt  with  a  home-made  collar  that  reached  to  his  ears. 
I  tell  you  he  was  a  fierce  looking  object.    He  stared  me 
straight  in  the  eye  and  said,  "What  can  I  do  for  you?" 
Now,  Jack,  you  know  that  I  am  a  fairly  good  talker,  but 
right  there  my  voice  failed  me.    I  could  not  utter  a  word 
if  my  life  depended  upon  it.    To  make  matters  worse,  he 
kept  those  two  big  eyes  on  me  just  like  a  dog  setting  a 
quail.    My  throat  became  all  tied  up  in  a  knot,  but  after 
a  pause  I  pulled  myself  together  and  asked  him  if  lie 
was  bothered  by  any  range  cattle  breaking  through  his 
fences.    I  thought  I  would  get  him  into  conversation  in 


68  THE  INDIANS '  LAST  FIGHT 

that  way,  and  said  that  the  range  foreman  had  asked  me 
to  make  the  inquiry.  He  turned  and  slammed  the  door 
in  my  face.  My  love  that  a  few  moments  before  threat- 
ened to  burn  a  hole  in  my  shirt,  was  turned  to  hate.  I 
detest  that  old  man,  and  what  makes  my  hatred  more 
intense  is  the  fact  that  when  I  was  riding  away  I  saw 
the  girls  laughing  and  making  fun  of  me.  I  have  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  I  had  better  stick  to  the  ranching 
as  I  never  did  care  much  for  farming  anyway.  As  for 
society  and  things  like  that,  I  abominate  them. 


CHAPTER  X. 

What  One  Sheep  Rancher  Did— Entertaining  a  Hobo — A 
Practical  Joke. 

About  the  year  1877,  an  extensive  sheep  ranch  was 
established  in  the  Panhandle  by  a  Mr.  Southerland.  He 
came  from  California  and  bought  up  the  range  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Adobe  Walls,  for  the  purpose  of 
transferring  his  flocks  from  that  far  off  State,  where  the 
grazing  was  getting  very  scarce,  to  the  northern  part  of 
Texas,  where  there  abounded  better  opportunities  for 
pasturage.  He  was  not  the  only  one  to  cast  a  longing 
eye  upon  that  territory,  for  many  cattlemen  from  the 
same  State  as  Mr.  S — ,  also  visited  the  Panhandle  district 
looking  for  grazing  grounds.  As  Mr.  S.  was  the  first  to 
acquire  rights  there,  the  story  in  this  chapter  will  deal 
with  his  men  and  his  flocks. 

When  he  returned  to  California  after  securing  the 
title  to  the  property,  he  sent  his  step-son,  Bill  Anderson, 
in  charge  of  the  drive  from  his  native  State  to  the  new 
range.  Besides  the  thousands  of  sheep  that  were  in  his  care 
he  brought  along  a  few  hundred  head  of  horses  and  bur- 
ros with  enough  Mexican  help  to  make  the  drive  success- 
ful. Of  course,  there  was  quite  an  outfit  of  mules  and 
wagons  to  transport  the  equipage  of  an  expedition  of  this 
kind.  There  was  no  opportunity  of  going  to  the  corner 
grocery  for  supplies,  nor  was  there  any  chance  of  secur- 
ing them  along  the  way,  as  the  journey  led  over  hills, 
mountains  and  canyons,  amongst  wild  tribes  of  Indians, 
from  California  to  Texas.  It  was  a  tremendous  under- 
taking, but  Bill  was  equal  to  the  occasion. 

He  was  a  man  of  iron  nerve,  a  good  shot  with  either 
sixi-shooter  or  Winchester  and  his  skill  and  daring  in 
roping  wild  animals  excited  the  admiration  of  even  the 


70  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

hardiest  of  his  followers.  It  was  a  common  thing  for 
him  to  ride  into  a  herd  of  buffalo,  rope  and  hog-tie  one, 
and  then  turn  him  loose  again,  just,  as  he  used  to  say,  to 
show  the  boys  how  it  was  done.  Along  with  his  great 
physical  courage  and  fortitude,  there  existed  another 
quality  often  found  in  men  of  rugged  health  and  spirits. 
Bill  was  a  practical  joker,  and  in  the  pursuit  of  his 
endeavors  to  provoke  a  laugh  he  spared  neither  age,  sex, 
nor  previous  condition  of  servitude.  It  seems  to  me  that 
I  can  hear  his  merry  laughter  ringing  in  my  ears  though 
many  years  have  passed  since  I  had  the  pleasure  of  being 
in  his  company.  His  was  a  sunny  disposition  and  the 
dark  side  of  a  cloud  never  appealed  to  him.  He  saw  the 
brightness  ahead  long  before  it  was  visible  to  others. 
Such  was  the  leader  of  the  expedition  that  set  out  from 
California,  and  many  a  merry  yarn  or  joke  lessened  the 
burden  of  the  long  drive. 

At  the  outset  of  the  journey,  the  Mexican  herders 
were  started  off  with  a  supply  of  bacon  and  coffee,  be- 
sides having  burros  laden  with  bedding  and  other  uten- 
sils. He  divided  the  whole  flock  into  smaller  sections, 
each  with  a  herder  in  charge.  They  moved  along  in  close 
proximity  to  one  another  for  the  sake  of  company  as  they 
would  likely  be  out  on  the  road  for  weeks,  and  would 
return  to  camp  only  when  in  want  of  provisions.  If 
fresh  meat  were  wanted,  all  they  had  to  do  was  to  kill  a 
lamb,  or  procure  some  of  the  wild  game  that  infested 
the  way,  such  as  antelope,  wild  turkeys,  prairie  chickens, 
quail  and  other  game.  Their  horses  did  not  require  much 
attention  as  there  was  plenty  of  grass  and  water  was 
easily  located. 

Thus  they  kept  on  their  way  during  the  long  weeks, 
day  succeeding  day  with  the  same  monotonous  routine. 
Finally  they  reached  their  range  in  safety,  glad  that  the 
long  and  tedious  journey  was  completed.  Here  they  made 
their  first  improvements  in  the  way  of  a  settled  habita- 
tion. They  constructed  a  dugout  and  covered  it  over 
with  poles  and  willows.  On  these  they  piled  a  layer  of 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  71 

soil  to  turn  the  rain.  The  furnishing  of  the  dugout  was 
of  the  simplest  kind.  A  split  log  to  sit  on,  a  table  made 
in  the  same  way  with  sapplings  for  legs,  was  all  they 
had  in  the  way  of  household  furniture.  Their  bedcham- 
ber consisted  of  the  open  prairie  with  the  blue  sky  above 
them  for  a  canopy.  This  done,  they  were  at  home  for 
friends  and  neighbors. 

Among  the  members  of  the  outfit  that  followed  An- 
derson from  California,  was  a  faithful  and  trusted 
employee  named  James  Farrell.  He  had  been  with  them 
for  years  and  was  one  of  the  family.  He  was  a  shrewd 
man  and  one  hard  to  deceive.  One  thing  he  felt  proud 
of  was  that  Bill  Anderson  never  succeeded  in  working 
off  a  practical  joke  at  his  expense.  He  boasted  of  the 
fact  that  Bill  had  often  tried,  but  always  failed  and  he 
felt  confident  that  he  would  never  succeed.  And  thereby 
hangs  the  following  tale: 

One  day  as  Bill  was  sitting  in  front  of  the  dugout 
doing  nothing  in  particular  and  having  lots  of  time  to 
do  it  in,  he  spied  a  man  in  the  distance  coming  toward 
him  on  foot.  This  was  something  very  unusual  in  those 
days,  as  a  man  on  foot  in  the  prairie  is  very  much  like  a 
man  in  the  middle  of  the  Atlantic,  he  feels  as  though 
he  is  twenty  miles  from  nowhere  and  does  not  know  how 
to  get  there.  Bill  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  man 
afoot  was  some  cow-puncher  that  had  been  thrown  from 
his  horse.  He  soon  discovered  his  mistake,  for  the 
stranger  proved  to  be  a  veritable  hobo.  He  gave  no 
information  regarding  himself,  and  it  was  impossible  to 
find  out  anything  about  him,  whence  he  came,  or  what 
profession  he  followed  to  gain  a  livelihood.  He  mani- 
fested an  interest  in  only  one  thing  and  that  was  when 
meal  time  came.  Then  he  was  a  whirlwind  of  energy. 
He  had  been  invited  to  take  a  supper  with  the  outfit,  and 
Bill  even  went  so  far  as  to  divide  his  blanket  with  him, 
favors  which  the  hobo  appreciated  so  much  that  he  con- 
tinued to  stay  for  meals  and  share  the  proprietor's 
blanket.  Time  passed  on,  as  time  usually  does,  and  the 


72  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

sign  of  taking  his  departure.  In  fact  he  seemed  so  much 
at  home  that  it  seemed  impossible  to  drive  him  away. 
Weeks  went  by,  but  still  the  hobo  was  not  accused  of 
showing  any  inclination  to  work  except  when  the  table 
was  to  be  cleared  of  provisions.  However,  all  good  things 
come  to  an  end,  and  Bill  felt  that  he  had  done  all  that 
the  laws  of  Western  hospitality  required  and  felt  impelled 
to  do  something  to  rid  himself  of  his  unwelcome  guest. 
He  thought  the  matter  over  carefully.  If  he  offered  the 
hobo  a  job,  the  latter  turned  the  subject  of  conversation 
into  politics  or  something  else.  It  was  useless  to  hint 
to  the  star  boarder  that  the  climate  of  other  localities 
might  be  better  for  his  health.  He  seemed  proof  against 
hints,  invitations,  or  even  mildly  expressed  wishes  that 
he  would  take  his  departure.  Nothing  but  personal 
violence  would  rid  them  of  his  company,  and  they  were 
loath  to  do  that.  Bill  began  to  worry  over  the  matter. 
He  went  around  with  a  thoughtful  look  as  though  he  had 
something  serious  on  his  mind.  Finally  he  determined 
to  lay  the  matter  before  Jim  to  see  if  he  could  not  suggest 
some  way  to  be  rid  of  a  guest,  who  was  not  only  a  burden 
but  a  nuisance.  After  some  reflection,  it  was  decided 
that  Jim  was  to  act  crazy,  and  some  time  or  other  when 
all  were  assembled  at  the  table,  at  a  given  sign,  he  was 
to  give  a  jump,  knock  over  the  table,  stick  his  dirk  into 
one  of  the  rafters  of  the  dugout,  and  grab  his  gun  and 
begin  to  shoot  up  the  place.  Of  course,  he  was  not  to 
kill  anybody,  but  the  purpose  was  to  stampede  the  hobo 
and  set  him  on  his  way  over  the  hills  to  other  localities 
where  he  might  have  an  opportunity  of  showing  his 
staying  qualities. 

The  next  day  it  happened  that  Bill  and  the  hobo 
were  down  at  the  corral  to  brand  some  colts.  It  dawned 
upon  the  proprietor  that  right  here  was  a  brilliant  oppor- 
tunity for  a  practical  joke  and  at  the  same  time  put  an 
end  to  Jim's  assertions  that  he  could  not  be  tricked  by 
any  practical  jokesmith  on  either  side  of  the  Rockies. 
It  made  Bill  smile.  He  took  a  look  around  to  see  if  Jim 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  73 

was  in  the  neighborhood  and  found  him  sitting  at  the 
door  of  the  dugout  braiding  a  lariat.  With  an  air  of 
simplicity  and  trustfulness  he  told  the  hobo  that  he  had 
something  to  tell  him ;  that  he  was  thinking  of  telling  it 
to  him  some  time  ago,  and  that  was  as  good  an  opportu- 
nity as  would  present  itself  to  him  to  do  so.  ' '  You  know, ' ' 
said  he,  in  a  guileless  manner,  "Jim  has  been  with  me 
for  a  number  of  years  and  I  have  found  him  one  of  the 
best  fellows  that  I  have  ever  known.  He  is  trusty,  and 
is  a  good  judge  of  stock.  I  can  rely  on  him  at  all  times 
and  he  takes  as  much  interest  in  the  work  and  the  ranch 
as  I  do  myself.  However,  he  has  been  a  cause  of  much 
worry  to  me.  I  do  not  like  to  tell  my  troubles  to  others  but 
I  find  I  must  tell  it  to  someone.  I  have  taken  quite  a 
shine  to  you  and  I  feel  that  the  confidence  I  place  in  you 
will  not  be  abused.  Well,  to  bring  the  matter  to  a  focus, 
I  must  tell  you  that  Jim  is  subject  to  spells,  and  when 
in  that  condition  is  likely  to  be  quite  dangerous.  The 
cause  of  his  condition  is  this.  A  few  years  ago,  out  in 
California  he  was  thrown  from  his  horse  and  in  falling 
his  head  struck  a  stone.  He  was  quite  delirious  for  a 
long  time.  He  grew  out  of  his  condition  after  a  year  or 
so,  but  at  certain  periods  he  has  a  return  of  his  old  illness 
and  is  likely  to  turn  things  topsy-turvy  before  we  can 
get  him  quited.  We  have  tried  everything  in  the  medical 
line,  but  it  was  no  use.  We  found  out  by  accident,  one 
day,  that  the  only  thing  that  would  restore  him  to  his 
senses  was  a  jar  on  the  head.  He  had  one  of  his  spells 
and  made  an  attack  on  one  of  the  hands  with  a  knife. 
The  man  in  desperation  let  fly  at  Jim  with  his  fist  and 
knocked  him  senseless  for  about  ten  minutes.  When  he 
recovered  from  the  blow,  he  was  as  rational  as  any  of  us. 
I  know  it  is  painful  for  us  to  have  to  lay  violent  hands 
on  the  poor  fellow,  but  it  must  be  done,  and  besides,  Jim 
is  very  thankful  for  our  doing  it,  as  he  'has  a  very  tender 
heart  and  would  not  for  anything  in  the  world  be  the 
cause  of  injury  to  anyone.  The  reason  I  am  telling  you 
this  is  that  I  may  have  to  be  away  some  time  or  other 


74  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

and  as  you  are  pretty  well  acquainted  with  the  run  f 
things  around  the  ranch,  you  will  know  what  to  do  if 
the  poor  fellow  has  one  of  those  sudden  attacks.  You 
may  not  feel  like  doing  it,  but  he  will  thank  you  for  it 
when  he  has  recovered,  and  besides,  Jim  thinks  a  lot  of 
you.  When  I  was  leaving  California  I  promised  my  poor 
old  mother  that  I  would  look  after  Jim  and  see  that  no 
harm  came  to  him  on  account  of  his  weakness." 

When  Bill  returned  to  the  dug-out,  it  would  not  take 
a  mind-reader  long  to  figure  out  that  there  was  some- 
thing going  to  happen.  He  kept  his  face  straight,  but 
he  could  not  conceal  the  merry  twinkle  of  his  eye.  He 
kept  the  cause  of  his  merriment  to  himself,  but  frequency 
he  would  take  a  look  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye  at  Jim 
and  if  Jim  was  not  looking,  a  smile  would  spread  over 
his  countenance.  The  thought  of  working  a  practical 
joke  on  Jim  was  too  much  for  him  at  times  and  he  would 
have  to  go  outside  to  conceal  his  feelings. 

Things  went  along  thus  for  a  few  days,  but  the 
tension  became  too  great  for  him  to  control  himself  my 
longer.  One  day,  at  dinner  he  gave  the  pre-arranged 
signal  to  Jim.  With  a  yell  Jim  jumped  up  upset  the 
table  and  spilled  the  contents  all  over  the  floor  of  the  dug- 
out, grabbed  his  dirk  and  stuck  it  into  the  rafter  of  the 
dug-out,  then  pulled  his  six-shooter  and  let  blaze.  He 
ploughed  up  the  earthern  floor  with  some  of  the  bullets, 
others  he  sent  flying  through  the  roof.  All  the  while  he  was 
yelling  like  a  Comanche  Indian  on  the  warpath.  By  the 
time  he  had  emptied  his  gun,  the  place  was  filled  with 
smoke.  At  the  first  shot  Bill  and  the  others  filed  through 
the  door,  or  rather  threw  themselves  through  it,  but  the 
hobo  mindful  of  the  instructions  given  him  some  time 
before,  worked  his  way  around  through  the  smoke  until 
he  came  within  arm's  length  of  Jim.  He  summoned  up 
all  his  strength  and  let  fly  one  of  his  fists.  It  was  a 
mighty  blow,  delivered  with  care.  It  landed  on  the  side 
of  Jim's  head  and  sent  him  reeling  and  senseless  into  a 
pile  of  gunny-sacks  lying  in  the  corner.  With  an  eye  to 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  75 

the  necessity  of  further  ministrations  if  necessary,  he  stood 
looking  at  the  poor  fellow  lying  there.  In  a  minute  or 
more,  Jim  opened  his  eyes  and  reached  for  his  gun.  It 
was  empty  of  course,  and  he  reached  for  his  cartridge 
box  also.  Bill  looked  in  through  the  door  when  he  heard 
no  noise.  He  saw  what  Jim  was  doing  and  also  noted 
by  the  flare  in  his  eyes  that  there  was  going  to  be  mo- 
ments of  activity  there  as  soon  as  he  succeeded  in  getting 
the  chambers  of  his  45  filled.  He  took  one  look  at  the 
hobo,  and  uttered  the  word  * '  run, ' '  Without  waiting  any 
further  instructions,  the  hobo  fairly  flew  through  the  door 
and  bounded  away  like  a  cat  pursued  by  a  bull  dog.  Jim 
dashed  for  the  door  with  his  weapon  ready  for  vengeance. 
He  saw  the  fleeing  figure  bounding  over  the  prairie  and 
let  fly  at  him  with  the  six-shooter.  Happily  for  all  con- 
cerned, he  was  too  excited  to  take  aim,  and  consequently 
all  of  his  shots  went  wild.  Every  shot  seemed  to  in- 
crease the  speed  of  the  swiftly  running  hobo.  He  was 
over  the  hill  and  far  away  in  about  the  shortest  time  he 
ever  made.  Jim  looked  around  the  end  of  the  dug-out 
and  found  Bill  and  his  companions  rolling  on  the  ground 
and  holding  their  sides  with  laughter.  He  realized  im- 
mediately that  there  was  something  strange  about  the 
whole  affair.  It  seemed  more  than  he  could  stand. 
"Bill  Anderson,"  said  he,  "I  believe  you  are  at  the 
bottom  of  all  this.  If  I  were  certain  of  it  I  would  send 
you  back  to  California  on  a  pair  of  wooden  legs,  but  out 
of  respect  for  your  good  old  mother  whose  feeling  I 
would  not  like  to  hurt  on  account  of  a  'bloody  spalpeen' 
like  you,  I  wrant  to  warn  you  never  to  do  the  like  of  it 
again."  Jim  never  afterwards  made  the  boast  that  he 
could  not  be  tricked  by  any  one  on  either  side  of  the 
Rockies. 

Bill  sold  out  the  ranch  sometime  afterwards  for 
$125,000,  and  the  last  I  saw  of  him  he  was  setting  out 
for  Old  Mexico. 

If  Jim  ever  had  any  more  crazy  spells,  I  never  heard 
of  it. 


CHAPTER  XI. 
The  Man  From  Missouri ;  An  Attempt  at  Dry  Farming,  etc 

While  out  hunting  one  day,  about  18  miles  south 
of  Dodge  City,  I  chanced  to  meet  a  stranger  who  inquired 
the  way  to  the  nearest  horse  corral.  In  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye  I  took  an  inventory  of  his  outfit,  and  I  must 
say  that  it  was  good.  He  had  a  fine  team  of  young 
mules,  a  three  seated  spring  wagon  covered  over,  harness 
all  covered  over  with  brass  mountings.  His  wife  and 
children  who  were  with  him  were  well-dressed  and  he 
himself  showed  traces  of  being  well  bred  and  was  rather 
a  good  talker.  His  conversation  showed  refinement, 
though  at  times  he  sandwiched  in  a  mild  cuss-word  to 
emphasize  his  statements.  Prom  his  bearing  I  could  see 
that  he  was  rather  high-strung.  Befoije  giving  the 
required  information  I  ventured  to  ask  if  he  was  going 
to  take  up  land  for  the  purpose  of  farming.  He  said  that 
that  was  his  intention.  I  looked  the  family  over  and  felt 
sorry  for  them,  knowing  what  they  would  have  to  endure 
on  a  claim.  I  had  not  the  same  regrets  for  proprietor 
of  the  outfit  as  I  felt  that  a  little  experience  and  expo- 
sure was  what  was  needed  to  round  out  his  character. 
The  more  I  explained  the  general  ,condi'tion|s  of  the 
neighborhood  of  his  destination,  the  more  he  seemed 
determined  to  go.  I  explained  to  him  that  others  from 
the  different  states  of  the  East  had  tried  to  raise  crops 
and  made  a  failure  of  the  venture,  and  returned  to 
their  several  homes  disgusted  with  the  West.  "Oh, 
pshaw!"  said  he,  "I  have  heard  that  same  tale  of  woe 
more  than  a  dozen  times  during  the  last  three  days,  and 
the  land-agents  in  Dodge  City  told  me  that  yarn  was 
fabricated  expressly  by  the  cow-men  to  discourage  the 
farmers  from  settling  on  the  range  and  cutting  off  their 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  77 

supply  of  pasture."  "Moreover,"  said  he,"  I  have  a 
little  provision  made  for  the  future  and  can  stand  it  as 
long  as  any  of  them." 

During  my  interview  with  that  gentleman,  I  learned 
that  his  name  was  Waugh,  that  he  was  a  native  of 
Pennsylvania,  and  had  been  living  in  Missouri  on  a 
rented  farm  during  the  preceding  two  years.  He  had 
become  dissatisfied  with  the  state  and  had  come  farther 
West  to  improve  his  fortunes.  I  ask  him  if  he  did  not 
think  it  better  to  return  to  Missouri  where  his  children 
would  have  the  advantage  of  schools,  and  he  and  his  wife 
would  be  able  to  enjoy  some  society  rather  than  establish 
a  home  on  a  raw  prairie.  He  replied,  "I  see,  stranger, 
that  you  have  never  lived  in  Missouri.  I  tell  you  those  folk 
back  there  don't  know  the  war  is  over  yet,  and  besides 
one's  standing  in  society  depends  upon  how  many  hounds 
one  keeps  and,  also,  on  the  length  of  one's  whiskers. 
Why,  don't  you  know  that  there  was  only  one  razor  in 
the  neighborhood  where  I  lived  and  that  was  owned  by 
the  school  teacher.  He  was  some  up  on  social  niceties. 
Once  in  awhile  he  used  to  go  to  St.  Joe  to  have  his  hair 
cut  and  the  back  of  his  neck  shaved  and  this  caused 
some  of  the  patrons  of  the  school  to  threaten  to  take 
their  children  away  from  him  if  he  did  not  stop  such 
unwarranted  proceedings.  I  am  sure  they  would  have 
done  so  if  they  had  known  that  he  used  to  go  down  to 
the  creek  every  Saturday  night  to  take  a  bath.  No 
Siree,  I  do  not  want  any  more  of  Missouri  in  mine.  The 
first  year  I  worked  there  I  did  fairly  well.  I  made  about 
half  a  crop.  The  next  year  was  a  complete  failure. 
I  raised  nothing,  absolutely  nothing,  and  when  I  saw 
the  hens  bringing  leaves  from  the  timber  to  build  nests, 
I  told  Hannah  to  put  out  the  fire  and  call  the  dog  and 
we  would  start  for  Kansas." 

The  next  time  I  met  Mr.  Waugh  was  one  afternoon 
about  three  months  later.  I  noted  that  his  mules  had 
fallen  away  in  flesh,  and  on  inquiring  about  his  general 
condition,  he  stated  that  things  were  in  poor  condition. 


78  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT  ' 

He  said  the  grass  had  been  poor  and  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  procure  corn  for  the  cattle.  In  fact  he  had 
not  plowed  nor  put  in  any  crops.  He  informed  me  that  it 
had  not  rained  since  he  had  taken  up  his  claim  and  to 
plow  was  out  of  the  question.  The  only  line  of  work 
open  for  him  was  to  gather  buffalo  bones.  He  said  that 
things  had  come  to  such  a  pass  that  he  had  to  exchange 
some  of  his  belongings  for  others  not  as  good 
His  spring  wagon  had  to  go  for  an  old  lumber-wagon 
as  he  could  not  use  the  spring  affair  in  the  work  of 
gathering  the  bones.  In  this  trade  he  received  a  cow 
to  boot. 

When  next  I  met  him  he  had  traded  off  his  mules 
and  brass-mounted  harness  for  a  one-eyed  mule  and  a 
pony,  receiving  boot  on  that  occasion  also  in  the  shape 
of  a  sewing  machine  and  a  shot  gun,  with  a  set  of  chain 
harness  thrown  in  for  good  measure.  He  said  he  pre- 
ferred the  chain  harness  as  the  dry  weather  did  not 
affect  the  corn-husk  collars  and  if  it  rained  he  could 
throw  it  on  the  ground  and  it  would  suffer  110  injury 
from  the  moisture.  Shortly  after  this  he  came  to  my 
blacksmith  shop  to  have  the  wheels  of  his  wagon  set. 
Before  that  he  used  to  soak  them  in  the  bed  of  the  creek, 
but  as  the  water  in  the  creek  bottom  failed,  he  had  to 
bring  them  to  me  to  set  them. 

The  last  time  I  had  the  opportunity  of  meeting  Mr. 
Waugh,  he  was  camped  at  the  creek  with  his  family. 
He  was  busy  at  the  camp-fire  cooking  his  meal  at  the 
time.  After  the  usual  greetings,  I  ventured  to  ask  him 
how  he  liked  farming.  He  seemed  very  despondent. 
"Don't  talk  to  me  about  farming  in  this  desolate  coun- 
try," said  he.  "It  has  not  rained  enough  between  here 
and  the  head  of  the  creek  since  I  have  been  here  to  wet 
a  postage  stamp.  Moreover,  there  are  skunks  enough 
up  there  to  drive  the  Standard  Oil  Co.  out  o-f  business, 
and  coyotes  without  number.  They  gave  us  no  rest. 
They  would  steal  a  chicken  out  of  the  pot  while  it  was 
boiling  on  the  fire."  "Why,"  he  continued,  You  know 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  79 

old  man  Spriggins  up  there?  Well,  only  last  week  his 
chickens  got  so  all-fired  hungry  that  they  went  out  on 
the  trail  and  tried  to  hold  up  a  bull-train  to  get  some 
corn.  I  would  not  have  believed  myself  if  I  had  not 
seen  it.  I  tell  you  those  chickens  were  getting  desperate 
and  you  would  have  believed  it  if  y'ou  had  seen  that 
Shanghai  rooster  strutting  back  and  forth  in  front  of 
those  oxen  and  crowing.  When  the  old  man  saw  it 
himself  he  went  down  to  John  Conrads  and  traded  his 
old  fiddle  and  a  cultivator  for  some  Kaffir  corn." 

"Well,"  said  I,  "you  filed  on  a  claim,  didn't  you?" 

"N,ot  that  any  one  knows  of,"  said  he.  "I  caught 
on  to  that  game  in  time  to  save  my  fourteen  dollars. 
It  is  nothing  but  a  gambling  game  anyway,  and  I  believe 
that  the  same  law  applies  to  poker  and  other  games  of 
chance,  ought  to  reach  Uncle  Sam  for  trying  to  unload 
a  lot  of  worthless  land  on  a  lot  of  poor  suckers  that  can't 
help  themselves.  Why,  he  don't  take  any  chance  at  all. 
He  simply  puts  up  one  hundred  and  sixty  acres  of 
parched  vacancy  against  your  fourteen  dollars  that  you 
can't  remain  on  it  for  five  years  without  starving,  to 
comply  with  the  contract  he  makes  with  you.  I  tell  you 
he  has  a  dead  sure  thing  here  in  Kansas.  He  has  made 
some  good  winnings.  Some  of  those  claims  he  has  won 
back  five  or  six  times  each  and  he  still  holds  the  land 
waiting  for  another  sucker  to  come  along." 

Well,  then,  I  said,  you  are  not  inclined  to  engage  in 
agriculture,  nor  to  remain  in  this  part  of  the  country, 
are  you? 

"Not  if  I  know  myself,"  he  replied,  "and  I  think  it 
about  time  I  was  becoming  wise.  You  told  me  the  whole 
unvarnished  truth  about  this  country  the  first  time  I  met 
you  and  if  I  had  taken  your  advice  I  would  not  be  in 
this  disagreeable  fix." 

Here  he  took  a  side  glance  at  his  one-eyed  mule, 
which  seemed  to  raise  his  temperature  to  about  160  in 
the  shade.  He  then  raised  his  voice  to  correspond  with 
the  temperature,  and  striking  his  hands  together  said; 


80  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

"any1  gosh-durned  country  that  gets  so  dad-burned  dry 
that  it  will  take  an  antelope — and  he  is  the  fastest  animal 
there  is — twenty  four  hours  solid  traveling  to  find  a 
drink  of  water,  is  a  little  too  dry  for  me.  I  am  going 
back  to  Pennsylvania.  That  state  will  be  good  enough 
for  me  for  all  the  time  to  come." 

He  hitched  up  his  one-eyed  mule  and  made  ready  to 
go.  I  bade  him  good-bye.  He  nodded,  clucked  to  his 
mule  and  rode  away. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Colonization      Indian      Scares;      Organizing     in      Self 
Defense,  etc. 

In  the  autumn  of  the  year  of  1878,  a  gentleman  by 
the  name  of  John  Joplin  was  sent  out  from  Zanesville, 
Ohio,  to  select  a  suitable  place  in  Western  Kansas  for 
the  purpose  of  locating  a  colony.  The  intention  was  to 
start  a  co-operative  business  in  farming.  After  survey- 
ing the  country  at  large,  he  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  Crooked  Creek  valley,  Meade  County,  where  I  was 
living  at  the  time,  was  the  most  desirable  for  the  purpose. 
He  returned  home  and  gave  a  glowing  report  of  what 
he  had  done,  and  his  efforts  and  report  received  the 
approval  of  the  futlire  colonists.  They  made  jtheir 
arrangements  and  moved  westward  in  the  following 
spring.  When  they  had  reached  their  destination,  they 
learned  that  Chief  Dull  Knife,  a  leader  of  a  band  of 
northern  Chyenne  Indians,  had  left  the  reservation  at 
Ft.  Reno  where  he  and  his  followers  were  held  as  pris- 
oners of  war.  Followed  by  a  numerous  retinue  of  tribs- 
m'en  he  started  for  the  Black  Hills  and  had  passed 
through  the  Crooked  Creek  Valley,  killing  the  settlers. 
They  continued  on  their  way,  killing,  burning,  and  de- 
stroying everything  and  everybody  in  sight  until  they 
were  re-captured  at  Ft.  Robinson,  Nebraska.  From  there 
they  were  brought  back  and  placed  on  the  reservation 
once  more. 

The  particulars  of  the  Dull  Knife  Raid  will  be  given 
in  another  chapter. 

Needless  to  say,  these  reports  caused  considerable 
excitement  in  the  valley.  Every  few  days  rumors  were 
circulated  that  the  Indians  were  returning,  or  wrould 
return  as  soon  as  the  grass  had  begun  to  sprout  again. 


82  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

Hardly  had  one  rumor  died  until  another  was  put  into 
circulation.  Excitement  reached  such  a  degree  that  all 
deemed  it  necessary  to  organize  for  protection.  A  meet- 
ing was  called  which  all  the  settlers  were  invited,  or 
requested,  to  attend.  The  Colonists  assembled  at  the 
dug-out  of  a  Mr.  M.  B.  Wilson,  one  of  the  leading  spirits 
of  the  movement,  to  devise  ways  and  means  for  protec- 
tion in  case  the  Indians  should  return.  After  a  general 
discussion  of  the  prevailing  conditions,  it  was  unani- 
mously agreed  that  we  should  appeal  to  the  Governor 
of  Kansas  for  fire  arms,  as  there  were  few  of  us  that 
had  any,  many  had  none,  and  some  had  no  money  to 
purchase  them,  and  some  that  did  have  them,  had  very 
little  knowledge  of  their  use.  Our  secretary  was  in- 
structed to  write  to  the  governor,  explain  the  conditions 
of  affairs,  and  request  him  to  send  us  the  necessary 
guns  and  ammunition  with  which  to  protect  ourselves 
against  the  Indians  in  case  they  should  make  another 
descent  on  the  valley,  which  they  would  likely  do  as 
they  were  threatening  to  leave  the  reservation  and  go 
on  the  warpath  a  second  time.  After  a  good  deal  of 
correspondence  and  red  tape. we  succeeded  in  getting  the 
governor's  attention,  and  he  kindly  informed  us,  after 
several  week's  delay,  that  if  we  wanted  any  assistance 
from  the  state,  we  should  join  the  militia.  He  informed 
us  that  when  we  were  duly  sworn  in,  he  would  send  the 
necessary  arms  for  protection  of  our  homes  and  families. 
To  the  disinterested  reader  this  action  on  the  part  of  the 
governor  may  seem  magnanimous,  but  to  [the  settler 
whose  family  was  living  in  a  dug-out  with  nothing  to 
protect  them  but  a  fire  shovel  or  a  hatchet  in  case  of  an 
Indian  raid,  it  looked  very  much  like  a  case  of  criminal 
neglect.  Another  meeting  was  called,  and  it  was  well 
attended.  There  were  many  women  present  who  seemed 
anxious  to  organize  a  company  for  the  protection  of  their 
homes.  After  some  discussion  it  was  decided  to  or- 
ganize and  join  the  militia.  Among  those  present 
was  a  veteran  of  the  Civil  war.  He  was  elected 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  83 

Captain  on  his  war  record — one  of  the  home-made  kind, 
as  none  of  his  comrades  of  the  war  recollected  any 
time  or  place  where  he  performed  any  deed  of  valor — 
as  he  would  most  likely  know  the  best  thing  to  do  at 
the  proper  time.  To  hear  the  Captain  tell  of  his  numer- 
ous exploits,  the  number  of  men  took  prisoners  of  war, 
how  he  had  on  several  occasions  leaped  over  the  breast- 
works of  some  beleagured  fort  in  the  midst  of  a  shower 
of  grape  and  canister,  and  tore  down  the  Confederate 
flag,  one  would  think  that  he,  Capt.  Milligan,  bore  a 
charmed  life.  It  seemed  strange  to  me  that  such  a 
thoughtful  man  as  Abe  Lincoln  did  not  send  somebody 
down  south  to  assist  the  Captain  as  he  seemed  to  be  doing 
all  the  heavy  fighting  himself.  Such  was  our  captain, 
the  last  and  the  greatest  of  the  Milligans  up  to  that 
time,  and  it  would  require  a  remarkable  scion  to  eclipse 
his  record,  if  one  hundredth  part  of  what  he  said  was 
true. 

Returning  to  the  thread  of  my  story,  and  I  hope 
you  will  pardon  the  digression  but  it  would  be  impossible 
to  pass  over  the  merits  of  our  worthy  Captain  without 
bringing  to  the  notice  of  the  world  at  large  his  claims 
to  the  honor  conferred  upon  him,  we  elected  G.  W. 
Brown  First  Lieutenant,  Mr.  Gantz,  Second  Lieutenant, 
and  C.  M.  Rice,  Sergeant.  The  above  officers  were 
veterans,  or  had  been  scouts,  and  the  remainder  required 
to  complete  the  contingent  had  no  military  experience 
whatever.  We  instructed  the  secretary  to  notify  the 
governor  that  we  had  organized  and  were  ready  to  be 
sworn  into  the  State  Militia.  We  did  not  actually  want 
to  join  the  militia,  but  would  rather  join  the  Women's 
Relief  Corps,  or  the  Suflragette  Movement,  or  the  Populist 
party,  anything  to  get  the  guns  and  ammunition.  (The 
swearing  part  of  the  program  did  not  play  a  very  im- 
portant part  as  there  had  been  enough  swearing  done 
along  the  Creek  already  over  the  Governor's  indolence 
and  failure  to  send  the  relief  requested,  yes,  enough  to 
have  sworn  in  seven  regiments  with  some  to  spare.) 


84  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

As  the  assemblage  was  about  to  disperse,  some  one 
called  for  a  speech.  Others  called  on  Capt.  Milligan  to 
harangue  the  multitude.  This  was  kept  up  until  the 
Captain,  with  all  the  dignity  of  a  well  trained  parlia- 
mentarian, condescended  to  make  a  few  remarks  to  show 
his  appreciation  of  the  favor  conferred  upon  him,  etc. 
He  selected  a  small  knoll  from  which  to  deliver  himself 
of  the  sentiments  that  filled  his  manly  breast.  He 
assumed  the  pose  of  an  orator  of  the  old  school  and 
delivered  a  discourse  in  something  like  the  fllowing 
words : 

"Fellow-   Citizens,   Ladies   and   Gentlemen:   We   are 
now  on  the  eve  of  a  terrible  conflict  to  decide  whether 
the  white  man  with  tens  of  thousands  of  years  of  civili- 
zation, culture  and  refinement  behind  him,  or  the  wily 
undomesticated,   uncivilized,  uncouth,   uncultured,   unre- 
fined, undressed  savage  wrill  rule  the  plains.     Whether 
the  untutored  savage  will  continue  to  water  the  virgin 
soil  of  the  rolling  prairie  with  the  blood  of  the  best  of 
our  citizens,  or  whether  the  white  man  shall  give  to  the 
unlimited  area  of  the  plains  the  advantage  of  a  training 
developed  by  centuries  of  progress  in  the  arts  of  peace 
and   agriculture.        (Cheers,   and   hurrah   for   Milligan). 
I  am  here  to  state  my  views  and  express  my  sentiments 
on  the  question  that  each  and  every  one  of  us  is  debating 
in  the  depths   of  the  individual  heart."     It  wras   quite 
evident  that  the  Captain  was  laboring  under  difficulties, 
as  he  delivered  the  above  in  a  very  hesitating  manner. 
What  he  lacked  in  fluency  of  speech,  he  made  up  by 
violence  and  fequency  of  gestures.     He  swung  his  arms 
and  stamped   his   feet  to   emphasize   the   degree   of   his 
perturbation  wThile  contemplating  in  advance  the  horrors 
to  which  they  were   to  be  subjected.       He   became   so 
wrapped  up   in   his   subject   and  wras   so   earnest   in   his 
endeavors  to  move  his  hearers,  that  he  did  not  realize 
that  he  was  standing  on  a  hill  inhabited  by  a  colony  of 
red  ants;  nor  was  he  aware  that  a  regiment  of  them 
had  set  out  to  explore  the  depths  of  his  unmentionables 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  85 

and  were  at  that  very  moment  making  rapid  progress 
through  the  recesses  of  his  underwear.  Suddenly  he 
became  aware  of  something  peculiar  about  his  feelings 
and  to  cover  the  difficulty  under  which  he  was  laboring, 
and  at  the  same  time  to  prove  to  his  hearers  that  his 
reputation  was  above  reproach  and  his  patriotism  beyond 
question,  he  accenuated  his  remarks  by  more  violent 
gestures  than  before,  striking  himself  on  the  thighs  and 
even  reaching  beyond  the  limits  to  which  gestures  were 
supposed  to  extend,  realizing  that  farthur  speech  with 
decorum  was  out  of  the  question  he  was  compelled  by 
force  of  circumstances  to  desist  from  further  efforts. 
He  made  an  assault  on  his  personal  enemies  as  best  he 
might  under  the  circumstances  in  such  a  public  place. 
He  squeezed  and  pinched,  slapped  and  crushed,  but  the 
greater  the  efforts  he  made,  the  more  they  seemed  to  be 
impelled  to  greater  efforts  of  offense.  He  rolled  up  his 
trouser  legs,  as  far  as  public  decency  would  permit,  but 
exposure  only  drove  the  enemy  to  seek  more  advan- 
tageous hiding  places.  He  could  not  ask  his  friends  to 
help  him  because  it  seemed  such  a  personal  affair,  and 
besides,  they  were  at  that*  moment  jhelpless  in  their 
efforts  to  stifle  their  laughter.  In  his  desperation  he 
started  for  the  creek,  which,  fortunately  for  him,  was 
close  at  hand.  A  clump  of  hackberry  and  plum  bushes 
screened  him  from  the  multitude,  and  in  the  friendly 
cover  offered  him  by  nature  herself,  he  began  to  put 
the  enemy  to  rout.  However,  mindful  of  the  position  to 
which  he  had  been  elected,  and  the  duty  incumbent  on 
him  of  stirring  them  up  to  the  proper  degree  of  patriot- 
ism, he  sent  word  that  he  would  return  shortly  to 
continue  his  harangue..  More  than  half  an  hour  elapsed 
before  he  returned,  and  to  guard  against  more  inter- 
ruptions, we  pulled  an  old  wagon  to  the  fore  and  fixed 
it  up  in  proper  shape  for  him  to  continue  his  remarks. 

Upon  his  arrival  he  was  assisted  by  Sergeant  Rice 
and  Lieutenant  Brown  to  mount  the  newly  made  rostrum. 
After  apologizing  for  his  abrupt  departure,  he  continued 


86  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

his  address  as  follows;  "Ladies  and  Gentlemen:  I  am 
ready  for  the  worst  if  it  must  come.  A  brave  man  dies 
but  once,  whilst  the  coward  dies  every  time  danger 
approaches.  There  is  no  use  of  being  timid  nor  chicken- 
hearted  in  the  present  cause.  I  do  not  encourage  cruelty, 
but  we  must  stand  firmly  together  to  defend  our  rights 
and  protect  our  families  and  firesides.  (Cheers).  "For 
my  part  I  want  to  emphatically'  say  that  no  invader  can 
leave  his  moccasin  track  on  my  thershold,  nor  disturb 
the  peace  of  my  household  until  he  has  crossed  over  all 
that  is  mortal  of  Capt.  Milligan.  Do  you  think  that  I 
would  sit  silently  and  submissively  by  and  see  him  shoot 
down  the  old  family  watch-dog,  work  him  up  into  bouil- 
lion,  and  eat  his  repast  in  the  shadow  of  my  "sorghum 
stack."  I  say,  No!  a  thousand  times,  No!  I  would  prefer 
to  meet  their  leader  in  single  combat  on  the  open  prairie 
and  when  I  had  driven  him  from  the  field  of  battle,  follow 
him  to  his  tepee,  destroy  his  totempole,  tear  his  wampum 
belt  from  his  body  and  carry  it  away  as  a  trophy  of  the 
expedition."  (Tumultuous  applause.) 

As  it  was  getting  rather  late,  and  many  had  long  dis- 
tances to  travel  before  reaching  home,  the  Capt.  closed 
his  harange,  thanking  them  for  their  attention  and  as- 
suring them  that  their  interests  were  his  interests,  and 
that  he  was  willing  to  go  to  extreme  lengths  to  defend 
their  rights,  and  homes. 

In  a  few  days  we  received  word  that  the  Governor 
had  instructed  Adjutent  General  Npble  to  proceed  to 
Dodge  City  and  thence  to  Crooked  Creek  where  he  was 
to  receive  the  oath  of  allegiance  of  the  colonists,  and  de- 
liver the  guns  and  ammunition,  and  give  us  such  instruc- 
tions as  he  deemed  necessary  for  us  in  our  line  of  duty. 
On  the  following  Thursday  he  arrived  and  went  through 
the  formality  of  enlisting  us  and  delivering  to  us  the 
weapons  of  war.  Henceforth  we  were  full-fledged  mem- 
bers of  the  Kansas  State  Militia.  After  turning  over  to 
us  the  arms  and  ammunition,  he  delivered  a  short  talk 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  87 

in  which  he  instructed  us  in  our  duties  to  the  State  and 
to  one  another. 

When  the  arms  were  distributed,  it  was  found  that 
there  was  a  surplus  left,  which  came  in  handy  to  shoot 
antelope  with  afterwards.  These  guns,  in  the  meantime, 
were  left  in  charge  of  Lieut.  Brown.  The  Adjutant-Gen- 
eral then  bade  us  good-bye  and  departed  for  home. 

AVc  immediately  set  to  work  to  provide  for  our  de- 
fense. After  some  deliberation,  we  concluded  to  provide  a 
fortification  in  which  to  place  the  women  and  children  and 
all  those  who  might  happen  to  be  in  the  neighborhood  in 
the  time  of  danger.  As  funds  were  lacking,  and  rock,  or 
timber  was  not  to  be  had,  we  decided  to  build  it  of  sod. 
The  following  Saturday  was  the  day  set  aside  to  vote  on 
the  proper  location  of  our  future  fortification.  On  the  ap- 
pointed day,  all  assembled.  They  expressed  their  wil- 
lingness and  eagerness  to  do  anything  to  further  the 
project.  One  thing  each  one  was  determined  on  was  to 
have  it  built  as  near  his  claim  as  possible.  It  did  not 
take  long  to  arrive  at  a  conclusion  regarding  the  position 
in  which  the  fort  was  to  be  built.  As  it  was  impossible 
to  satisfy  everybody,  we  abandoned  the  project  entirely, 
and  it  was  further  decided  that  each  one  was  to  take  his 
share  of  the  guns  and  ammunition  and  take  care  of  him- 
self. Another  subject  that  gave  us  much  concern  was  the 
matter  of  drilling.  The  adjutant  had  told  us  to  become 
familiar  with  the  use  of  the  arms,  to  meet  at  least  once 
a  week  and  drill  to  render  ourselves  fit  for  duty.  When 
the  time  arrived  for  our  first  lesson  in  the  "manual  of 
arms,"  it  was  found  that  there  was  not  a  man  present 
who  knew  anything  about  it.  The  old  scouts  who  were 
present,  knew  all  about  how  to  ride  a  horse,  and  to  lie 
down  in  a  buffalo  wallow  and  take  a  shot  at  an  Indian 
if  one  came  in  sight,  and  they  were,  besides,  first  class 
hands  at  discovering  watering  places  and  the  like,  but 
in  the  matter  of  drill  they  were  entirely  unsophisticated. 
Even  Capt.  Milligan,  if  he  ever  knew  anything  about  the 
matter,  declared  'he  had  forgotten  it  entirely.  He  felt 


88  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

sure,  however,  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  perform  the 
proper  manoeuvers  with  those  short-barreled  guns,  and 
that  if  the  Governor  would  send  some  with  long  barrels 
that  he  would  be  right  at  home  in  the  matter.  As  no 
one  seemed  capable  of  conducting  the  class,  we  settled 
the  difficulty  in  the  same  manner  as  we  did  that  of  the 
fort,  by  abandoning  it  also.  It  was  unanimously  agreed 
that  in  case  of  trouble,  each  should  go  to  the  aid  of  his 
neighbor  if  assistance  were  needed.  This  was  very  satis- 
factory for  me  especially,  as  I  was  fortunate  in  the  pos- 
session of  splendid  neighbors,  Sergeant  Rice  living  on 
one  side  of  me,  and  First  Lieut.  Brown  on  the  other.  Both 
were  possessed  of  abundant  fighting  material  at  all  times, 
and  knew  how  to  use  it  in  an  emergency. 

Things  seemed  to  drag  along  in  the  usual  way,  every- 
body settling  down  to  his  own  affairs  and  everything 
would  have  gone  along  tranquilly  enough  were  it  not  for 
the  numerous  cowboys  passing  through  the  settlement, 
spreading  reports  as  they  went,  that  the  Indians  were 
mixing  war  medicine  and  would  shortly  make  a  descent 
upon  the  palefaces.  It  was  a  source  of  great  delight  to 
them  to  stampede  the  settlers  by  disquieting  reports,  and 
then  have  a  good  laugh  about  it.  Their  efforts  at  fun 
kept  the  settlers  in  a  state  of  ferment. 

It  happened  that  Capt.  Milligan's  claim  was  located 
on  the  south  side  of  the  settlement  and  nearest  to  the 
Indian  Territory.  As  he  was  rather  nervous  and  always 
on  the  alert,  he  kept  inquiring  continuously  of  the  cow- 
boys, of  the  possibility  of  an  Indian  raid,  and,  of  course, 
they  filled  his  anxious  ear  with  war  news.  Nearly  every 
other  day  I  noticed  the  Captain  calling  011  either  Sergeant 
Rice  or  Lieutenant  Brown,  and  as  he  had  to  make  a  ride 
of  ten  miles  or  so  to  make  the  visit,  I  concluded  that 
there  was  some  significance  to  these  numerous  calls.  How- 
ever, as  they  were  my  superior  officers,  I  did  not  feel  at 
liberty  to  make  any  inquiries  about  the  Captain's  fre- 
quent visits.  I  did  not  have  to  curb  my  curiosity  very 
long  before  acquiring  the  desired  information.  In  a  few 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  89 

days  I  saw  the  Captain  riding  up  in  my  direction  on  his 
old  bald-faced  horse  and  could  see  at  a  glance  that  his 
arrival  was  something  of  importance  as  he  was  riding 
straight  up  in  his  saddle  with  as  much  dignity  as  it  was 
possible  for  one  horse  to  carry.  Upon  his  near  approach 
I  felt  that  I  must  do  something  to  acknowledge  the  pres- 
ence of  my  captain.  Not  being  versed  in  military  eti- 
quette, I  doffed  my  Stetson  hat.  As  I  was  leaning  against 
the  fence,  with  a  spade  in  one  hand  and  my  hat  in  the 
other,  I  realized  that  my  appearance  lacked  something 
of  the  military  precision  required  in  a  subordinate,  and 
I  apologized  for  my  lack  of  training  in  the  case.  He  dis- 
mounted from  his  horse  and  condescended  to  shake  hands 
with  me  and  said  that  the  salute  was  only  a  matter  of 
form  anyway;  that  he  understood  my  position  exactly; 
that  he  was  a  recruit  once  himself;  that  on  such  occasions 
as  this  he  could  overlook  little  technicalities  of  the  kind, 
but  on  the  field  of  glory  he  would  have  to  be  more  exact- 
ing with  his  men.  I  then  invited  the  Captain  to  take  a 
seat  on  a  cottonwood  log  near  at  hand  so  that  we  could 
discuss  matters  pertaining  to  the  Company  more  at  leis- 
ure. I  congratulated  him  on  the  choice  of  officers  which 
he  had  made. 

"Yes,"  said  he,  "they  are  all  good  men  and  true,  but 
if  I  had  it  to  do  over  again,  I  would  try  to  have  you  act 
as  First  Lieutenant  of  the  Company.  Brown  is  a  good 
man  and  a  good  scout  and  has  seen  some  service  with 
the  Indians,  but  he  lacks  aggressiveness.  I  want  men 
who  are  aggressive  and  who  will  go  into  battle  as  if  they 
are  going  to  breakfast.  By  the  way,"  he  continued,  "I 
dropped  over  to  see  you  and  to  leave  orders  for  you  to 
go  down  into  the  Indian  Territory  and  size  up  the  situa- 
tion. Find  out  if  the  Indians  are  in  an  ugly  mood,  and 
if  they  are  likely  to  make  a  raid  in  the  near  future.  Then 
report  to  me  on  your  return  and  I  will  take  some  steps 
in  the  direction  that  will  be  best  for  all  concerned.  The 
cowboys  have  been  circulating  some  reports  concerning 
an  intended  raid,  but  I  do  not  know  whether  any  cred- 


90  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

ence  is  to  be  placed  in  them  or  not.  Consequently  I  de- 
cided to  come  over  to  see  you  and  send  you  down  to  look 
the  field  over,  and  then  I  would  feel  more  satisfied,  and 
know  just  what  action  to  take  in  the  matter." 

I  asked  the  Captain  how  he  expected  me  to  go  down 
there,  and  who  would  bear  the  expense  of  my  journey. 

4 'Oh,  said  he,  "you  can  take  your  own  horse,  and  I 
suppose  the  State  will  be  responsible  for  any  bills  y'ou 
make  whilst  under  my  orders."  I  then  asked  him  what 
I  should  do  for  food  for  myself  as  well  as  for  my  horse. 
A  broad  smile  lit  up  his  countenance  and  he  replied, 
"Don't  you  know  that  the  cowmen  will  be  more  than 
pleased  to  have  a  soldier  stop  at  their  ranches  for  the 
feeling  of  security  his  presence  will  engender?  Your 
board  and  horse-feed  will  not  have  to  be  considered  at 
all.  You  can  go  to  the  B-S  ranch,  the  Doc  Day  ranch, 
the  Y.  L.  ranch  or  the  Driscoll  ranch,  and  they  will  re- 
ceive you  with  open  arms.  I  can  assure  you  that  no 
charges  will  be  even  mentioned." 

During  this  short  interview  I  discovered  a  nigger  in 
the  Captain's  wood-pile.  The  fact  was  that  the  cowboys 
had  him  half  scared  to  death  by  telling  him  all  kinds  of 
Indian  war  stories.  The  particular  reason  he  had  in  call- 
ing on  me,  was  to  have  me  go  down  to  the  Territory,  and 
if  I  was  not  scalped  while  on  my  mission,  and  if  I  found 
that  the  Indians  were  really  going  on  the  warpath,  I 
should  report  to  him  without  delay  so  that  he  might  be 
able  to  withdraw  his  precious(?)  person  from  the  zone 
of  danger  and  escape  to  Fort  Dodge.  I  told  the  Captain 
that  lie  was  somewhat  mistaken  in  the  estimate  a  cow- 
man places  on  a  soldier  as  a  means  of  defense  where  the 
Indians  were  concerned.  I  assured  him  that  I  had  learned 
their  personal  views  on  the  subject,  and  they  had  arrived 
at  the  conclusion  that  the  soldier  was  a  detriment  and 
an  encumbrance  to  them  in  case  of  trouble  with  the  In- 
dians, and,  moreover,  they  felt  quite  capable  of  taking 
care  of  themselves  in  times  of  danger  from  such  sources. 
I  went  on  to  tell  him  that  if  he  were  anxious  to  ha^e 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  91 

an  investigation  of  conditions  made,  he  might  come  over 
to  my  place  in  a  day  or  so  and  we  would  go  down  to- 
gether and  make  the  inquiries  proper  to  the  occasion, 
and  that  I  would  feel  safer  with  him  than  if  I  were 
alone.  I  immediately  saw  that  the  Captain  was  getting 
an  attack  of  what  the  hunters  call  "buck-ague."  "Thun- 
der and  turf,"  he  exclaimed,  "I  cannot  go.  I  am  subject 
to  orders  from  the  Governor,  and  I  should  be  in  a  queer 
fix  if  I  were  called  to  duty  in  some  other  part  of  the 
State  while  I  was  down  in  the  Territory.  However,  I  can 
order  Corporal  Copeland  to  go  with  you."  I  told  him 
that  the  Corporal  had  no  horse,  and  it  would  not  be  right 
to  send  him  on  foot.  I  also  informed  him  that  he  would 
have  to  look  around  and  make  some  other  arrangements, 
as  my  horse  was  too  old,  and  his  knee  was  sprung  from 
roping  cattle,  so  that  an  Indian  war  horse  could  catch 
him  without  any  trouble.  Conditions  being  such,  I  t-'iii 
him  I  did  not  think  I  would  go.  "What!"  he  shouted, 
"you  do  not  mean  to  disobey  orders!"  His  eyes  bulged 
out  until  they  looked  like  old  English  watches,  and  his 
chest  measurement  seemed  to  increase  perceptibly. 
He  jumped  up  from  his  seat  on  the  log  and  started  for 
his  horse,  saying  on  his  way,  "If  you  persist  in  disobeying 
orders,  I  shall  be  forced  to  disarm  you  and  court-martial 
you  for  insubordination."  "Well,"  said  I,  "you  will 
raise  the  deuce  court-martialing  me,  when  there  is  only 
five  or  six  members  of  the  Company  who  can  read  or 
write  and  they  are  all  on  my  side."  I  heard  nothing 
more  from  the  Captain  for  several  days.  Finally  I  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  him  telling  me  that  he  had  written 
to  the  Governor  regarding  my  disobedience.  I  replied 
to  his  message,  saying  that  if  the  Governor  was  as 
tardy  intaking  action  on  my  case  as  he  was  in  sciiding 
arms  and  ammunition,  I  should  die  of  old  age  before  the 
matter  would  be  adjusted.  I  also  informed  him  that  I 
had  received  word  that  the  Indians  would  be  in  )ur 
neighborhood  in  a  few  days,  and  that  he  should  see  to 
it  that  means  were  taken*  for  our  defense.  Next  day  I 


92  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

received  another  note  from  him  in  which  he  told  me  that 
he  had  changed  his  attitude  toward  me,  and  that  I  should 
call  on  Sergeant  Rice  and  Lieutenant  Brown  and  tell 
them  to  report  to  him  for  duty  at  once,  and  I  was  to  ac- 
company them.  The  message  I  received  by  special  deliv- 
ery. I  made  a  visit  up  the  creek  to  see  ray  mends,  Rice 
and  Brown,  and  reported  the  change  that  had  taken 
place  in  the  Captain's  attitude,  and  also  showed  them 
his  request  and  instructions,  asking  at  the  same  time 
their  opinions  on  the  matter.  Brown  *epliod,  'O  pshaw, 
Jtbat  does  not  am.)  iut  to  anything.  Those  cowboys  over 
on  Sand  Creek  have  the  old  Captain  about  frightened  to 
death,  and  I  think  we  had  better  remain  where  we  are. 
There's  not  an  Indian  in  the  country,  and  I  do  not  think 
there  will  be."  We  acted  on  Brown's  suggestion  and  re- 
mained where  we  were. 

At  this  time  the  cowmen  were  holding  their  Spring 
round-up  on  Sand  Creek,  to  cut  out  and  take  back  to 
their  ranches  the  cattle  that  had  drifted  off  during  the 
winter,  besides  branding  the  calves  before  turning  them 
loose  again  on  the  range.  There  were  about  one  hundred 
cow-punchers  at  the  round  rin,  al'  well  mounted  and  well 
armed.  Each  man  had  from  three  to  live  horses  in  his 
mount,  all  in  good  shape  because  they  had  been  grain  fed 
for  the  occasion.  Their  arms  consisted  of  Winchesters 
and  six-shooters.  There  had  been  so  many  rumors  circu- 
lated about  the  possibility  of  an  Indian  raid  that  all  went 
prepared  for  any  emergency.  One  day  while  they  were 
all  lying  around  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  round-up 
herds  from  the  Southeast,  a  happy  thought  ocurred  to 
them  to  put  to  the  test  the  bravery  of  Captain  Milligan, 
of  which  they  had  heard  much,  thinking  at  the  same  time 
to  have  some  sport  at  his  expense.  They  formed  a  com- 
pany of  about  thirty,  dressed  up  like  Indians,  or  near 
enough  to  the  real  thing  to  be  mistaken  for  them  at  a 
distance.  The  leader  was  fitted  witn  a  rod  saddle  blanket 
decorated  with  sage  brush  for  a  war  bonnet,  with  a  few 
cat  tails  for  plumes.  He  looked  mora  like  a  grizzly  bear 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  93 

than  an  Indian,  but  his  appearance  was  well  calculated 
to  strike  terror  into  the  heart  of  any  civilized  human 
being,  especially  when  everyone  was  looking  for  trouble 
from  such  a  source  anyway.  The  rest  of  the  crowd 
dressed  up  as  each  saw  fit,  carrying  their  hats  inside 
their  shirts  so  as  to  travel  bareheaded  after  the  Indian 
fashion.  When  all  was  ready  they  took  a  direct  route 
for  Captain  Milligan's  place.  They  all  knew  how  to  ren- 
der the  Cheyenne  war  whoop  when  the  proper  time  ar- 
rived, and  the  leader  rode  along  at  a  moderate  pace 
chanting  his  war  song.  They  came  to  a  halt  to  decide 
whether  they  should  burn  him  alive,  or  capture  him  and 
hold  him  for  ransom.  One  man  said  it  was  useless  to  hold 
him  for  any  ransom  as  he  knew  most  of  the  company, 
and  as  for  burning  him  alive,  he  did  not  think  there  was 
a  cow-puncher  in  the  crowd  that  would  waste  time  nec- 
essary to  gather  chips  for  the  sacrifice.  In  the  meantime 
the  chief  kept  ranging  around  and  waving  is  hands, 
keeping  his  war  bonnet  as  much  in  evidence  as  posible. 
They  moved  up  to  a  position  within  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  of  the  Captain's  house  and  then  gave  a  war  whoop. 
By  this  time  the  object  of  the  joke  became  aware  of 
their  presence  and  felt  his  peril  keenly.  He  aide  i  c^ash 
for  his  corral  where  he  kept  a  little,  old,  notch- eared, 
sore-backed  pony  that  he  always  kept  saddled  for  any 
emergency.  To  say  that  he  went  rapidly,  is  putting  it 
mildly — he  fairly  flew.  When  he  got  started  the  Indians  ( ? ) 
made  a  rush  to  capture  him,  firing  at  him  in  the  mean- 
while. They  remained  a  safe  distance  behind  so  as  to  be 
sure  not  to  capture  him,  but  kept  up  the  shouting  and 
whooping  for  about  two  miles.  The  Captain  took  the 
shortest  course  to  Fort  Dodge,  and  the  cowboys  returned 
to  camp  laughing  heartily  at  th'e  brave  man's  flight. 

When  the  Captain  had  made  about  five  miles  of  his 
hasty  retreat,  he  happened  upon  one  of  his  neighbors, 
Mike  O'Shea,  who  had  begun  to  dig  a  well.  As  he  passed 
in  his  headlong  flight  he  shouted  to  Mike,  "Tell  Rice 
and  Brown  they  are  here,  and  I  am  going  to  Fort  Dodge 


94  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

for  relief  and  succor."  He  was  in  too  great  a  hurry  to 
stop  and  explain  the  cause  of  his  excitement,  and  as 
Mike  explained  it  afterwards,  lie  said  he  thought  he  was 
going  for  a  "thafe  and  sucker"  or  something  of  the  kind, 
or  maybe  it  was  "relafe  and  supper,  or  something  like 
that."  He  also  noticed  that  the  Captain's  horse  was  al- 
most out  of  breath,  and  the  gentleman  himself  was  vory 
much  excited. 

Whilst  Rice  and  Brown  were  interviewing  Mike,  an- 
other man  came  along  and  stated  that  he  had  seen  the 
Captain  about  ten  miles  north,  and  he  reported  having 
had  an  engagement  with  the  Indians  that  day  at  his  claim, 
and  said  that  he  had  stood  them  off  until  they  had  retired. 
As  he  was  about  out  of  ammunition  at  the  time  of  their 
departure,  he  took  advantage  of  their  retreat  'o  make 
his  way  to  Fort  Dodge  for  relief  and  succor.  He  -.'id  not 
say  how  many  he  had  killed,  but  maintained  that  he  had 
a  very'  narrow  escape. 

I  suppose,  if  Captain  Milligan  is  alive  today,  he  does 
not  fail  to  tell  of  the  time  he  stood  off  five  hundred  Chey- 
enne Indians,  single-handed  and  alone,  and  how,  after 
driving  them  off,  he  beat  them  to  Fort  Dodge  in  quest  of 
aid. 

A  few  days  after  the  encounter  with  the  supposed 
Indians,  Lieutenant  Brown  received  the  following  note 
from  the  Captain: 

Fort  Dodge,  Kansas,  April  —,7.9. 
Lieutenant  Brown: 

Dear  Comrade : — I  am  in  receipt  of  a  telegram  from 
the  Governor,  ordering  me  to  go  at  once  to  Topeka,  to 
take  charge  of  the  strike-breakers.  The  railroad  em- 
ployees have  gone  out  on  a  strike,  and  it  will  take  the 
strong  arm  of  the  militia  to  hold  them  in  check.  Sell  my 
land  and  all  my  effects,  and  forward  the  proceeds  to  ruy 
address,  which  will  be,  State  Capitol,  Topeka. 

Yours  in  command,  Captain  Milligan. 

P.  S.    Regards  to  all  the  comrades. 

Thus  terminated  the  war  of  1879. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
A  New  Venture. — Hard  Times. — The  Territory,  Etc. 

For  three  years,  from  1879  to  1882,  it  seemed  as  if  the 
very  elements  had  conspired  to  render  the  attempt  at 
settling  Western  Kansas  futile.  The  continuous  drouth, 
together  with  the  hot  winds,  made  any  attempt  at  farm- 
ing discouraging.  As  a  consequence  a  great  many  settlers 
sold  their  holdings  for  what  they  could  get  for  them,  and 
returned  to  their  former  place  of  abode.  The  gathering 
of  buffalo  bones,  which  had  been  their  chief  source  of 
subsistence  during  that  trying  time,  was  beginning  to  fail 
owing  to  the  great  number  engaged  in  the  business,  and 
the  distance  they  had  to  be  hauled  and  the  ever  receding 
base  of  supply.  Many  abandoned  the  work  entirely,  and 
the  few  that  remained  actively  engaged  in  that  occupa- 
tion found  themselves  daily  meeting  greater  difficulties. 
The  scarcity  of  the  supply  became  so  great  that  they 
would  often  be  compelled  to  go  a  hundred  miles  or  more 
to  gather  a  load,  haul  them  to  the  nearest  trail,  and  then 
transfer  them  to  some  freighter  on  the  way  to  Dodge 
City,  the  only  market  for  them  in  the  country.  To  make 
the  exchange  and  have  them  taken  to  market  usually  re- 
quired a  division  of  the  profits,  and  one  can  easily  imag- 
ine what  a  small  share  was  left  for  the  original  collector 
when  the  goods  were  sold.  No  matter  how  small  the 
profit,  on  this  the  gatherer  had  to  subsist  as  well  as  sup- 
ply his  family  with  necessaries  during  his  absence.  There 
was  hardly  sufficient  remuneration  in  the  work  to  obtain 
the  plainest  of  provisions. 

To  the  young  people  of  America  who  may  perhaps 
be  reading  this  little  story  of  the  early  settlement  of  the 
West,  in  the  comfortable  surroundings  of  their  own  cozy 
homes,  I  will  say  that  they  know  little  of  the  price  paid 


96  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

to  make  such  conditions  possible.  I  have  frequently  seen, 
on  the  top  of  a  wagon  loaded  with  bones,  a  gunny  sack 
containing  the  skeleton  of  a  man,  that  had  been  picked 
up  by  some  freighter  or  some  cowman  or  some  settler, 
and  put  in  the  sack  to  be  taken  to  Dodge  City  for  burial. 
That  gunny  sack  contained  a  sermon  as  well  as  a  skele- 
ton. It  told  of  the  certainty  of  death  as  well  as  of  the 
uncertainty  of  life.  It  told  the  reason  why  father,  moth- 
er, Mary,  Ellen  and  Julia  never  received  a  reply  to  their 
last  letter,  written  to  John,  Jake  or  Jim,  marked  on  the 
lower  left-hand  corner,  "In  haste,  please,"  to  be  sure  of 
prompt  delivery.  Quite  likely,  when  the  poor  old  mother 
would  be  grieving  over  the  long  disappointment,  the  girls 
would  encourage  her  by  saying,  "Oh,  that  is  one  of  his 
pranks.  He  is  just  waiting  until  we  are  all  quite  lone- 
some, and  then  he  will  come  rushing  in  upon  us  to  take 
us  by  surprise."  He  has  never  returned,  but  the  family 
still  keeps  alive  the  glimmer  of  hope  that  nickers  in  the 
human  breast,  that  they  will  all  meet  again,  somewhere. 

Confronted  with  such  conditions  as  mentioned  above, 
with  no  indications  of  any  relaxation  of  the  drouth  that 
was  compelling  even  the  big  ranchmen  to  look  around 
for  water,  we  saw  a  very  gloomy  outlook  for  the  future. 

After  weighing  the  matter  carefully,  I  decided  to 
make  a  change  in  my  business  affairs.  I  took  into  my 
confidence  a  cow-puncher  named  Bill  Wagner,  who  is 
now  living  in  Meade,  Kans.  Having  fully  discussed  the 
situation  from  all  points,  we  determined  to  embark  to- 
gether on  a  course  that  would  at  least  promise  us  some 
profit  from  the  undertaking.  We  made  up  our  minds  to 
go  down  into  the  Territory  and  trade  with  the  cattlemen 
who  were  coming  N,orth  with  their  herds  from  Texas,  on 
their  way  to  Montana  or  Wyoming,  either  to  sell  or  turn 
loose  to  graze  on  the  Northern  range.  We  rounded  up  a 
few  saddle  horses,  among  which  was  my  old  favorite 
Jimmy,  and  set  out  for  Dodge  City  to  purchase  the  sup- 
plies necessary  for  the  journey.  I  also  wanted  to  deposit 
some  money  and  dispose  of  some  mules  that  I  would  not 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  97 

need  on  my  trip.  On  my  arrival  at  Dodge  City  I  formed 
the  acquaintance  of  James  Langton,  who  introduced  me 
to  a  Mr.  R.  M.  Wright,  of  the  firm  of  Wright,  Beverly  & 
Co.,  who  were  engaged  in  a  Wholesale  Supply  business. 
I  found  Mr.  Wright  one  of  the  most  genial  men  with 
whom  I  ever  did  business.  Having  previously  sold  my 
mules,  I  deposited  my  money  with  the  firm  I  was  intro- 
duced to.  I  told  Mr.  W.  that  I  intended  to  go  down  into 
the  Territory  on  a  trading  expedition.  I  explained  to 
him  that  the  cattlemen  would  be  on  the  trail,  and  as  there 
were  no  stores  to  be  found  between  the  Red  river  on  the 
North  line  of  Tex(as  and  where  we  were  then  standing, 
there  would  be  a  good  opportunity  to  trade  provisions 
for  some  cattle  that  had  become  sore-footed  on  the  way, 
with  a  good  profit  for  me.  He  agreed  with  me  that  it  was 
a  golden  opportunity,  and  added  as  an  encouragement, 
"You  will  do  well,  if  the  Indians  do  not  scalp  you  in 
the  meantime."  I  replied  that  as  conditions  existed  on 
Crooked  Creek,  a  man  would  be  no  worse  off  dead  in  the 
Territory  than  living  where  I  had  been.  I  saw  very  little 
difference. 

I  loaded  my  wagon  with  what  goods  I  thought  would 
be  most  in  demand  by  the  cattlemen.  I  selected  a  con- 
siderable quantity  of  tobacco,  bacon,  baking  powder, 
canned  goods  of  several  kinds,  a  coil  of  rope,  cartridges 
of  different  calibre,  coffee,  sugar,  and  some  other  things 
— all  necessary  on  the  trail.  I  also  bought  a  tent  and 
cooking  outfit.  The  latter  consisted  of  a  coffee-pot,  skil- 
let, frying-pan,  coffee-mill,  six  knives  and  forks,  six  tin 
plates,  six  cups  and  saucers,  the  latter  of  tin,  in  order  to 
provide  against  the  possibility  of  our  having  some  com- 
pany on  the  road.  By  the  time  I  had  my  trading  done, 
Wagner  was  ready  and  waiting.  We  hitched  up  and 
pulled  across  the  river,  where  we  encamped  for  the  night. 
Part  of  the  horses  we  hobbled,  and  two  we  kept  picketed 
in  order  to  guard  against  being  left  on  foot  the  next 
morning  if  anything  should  stampede  our  stock  during 
the  night.  When  the  stock  had  been  cared  for,  we  pro- 


98  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

ceeded  to  make  arrangements  for  ourselves,  and  while 
Wagner  cooked  the  flapjacks  I  was  looking  around  for 
sleeping  accommodations,  as  it  was  difficult  to  find  a 
place  level  enough  to  suit  the  purpose.  The  making  of 
our  beds  did  not  cost  much  effort,  but  one  had  to  guard 
against  sand-burrs,  cactus,  tarantulas,  rattlesnakes  and 
centipedes. 

The  next  morning  found  us  up  early  after  a  good 
sound  sleep,  and  hustling  around  to  get  ready  for  the  first 
clay  of  our  new  venture.  When  we  had  tended  to  the 
wants  of  the  stock  and  ourselves,  we  hitched  up  and 
started  off  at  a  slow  pace,  as  the  team  was  not  accus- 
tomed to  the  heavy  work,  and  it  would  take  some  time 
for  them  to  become  inured  to  the  hardship  of  the  trail. 
Out  across  Five  Mile  Creek  and  up  the  divide  along  the 
old  Camp  Supply  route  until  we  reached  the  sumniit,  we 
made  our  toilsome  way.  We  reached  the  apex  about  noon 
time  and  halted  for  dinner.  After  giving  the  horses  a 
good  rest,  we  proceeded  on  our  way,  and  as  our  route 
now  lay  down  grade  we  made  better  time.  Evening  found 
us  at  Mulberry  Creek,  where  Johnny  Glenn  and  Dutch 
Pete  kept  a  road  ranch.  This  roadside  caravansary 
served  as  a  halting  place  for  the  stage  coach,  and  fur- 
nished refreshments  for  passengers  when  needed.  As 
there  was  a  good  camping  ground  there,  we  unhitched 
and  turned  the  horses  out  to  graze  and  made  preparations 
for  our  own  accommodation.  When  we  had  eaten  sup- 
per, we  brought  the  horses  in  for  the  night,  and  then 
after  chatting  and  smoking  for  some  time  we  turned  in 
for  a  good  night's  rest.  Early  morning  found  us  on  our 
way  again  towards  the  South.  We  kept  rumbling  along 
until  we  reached  the  division  point  of  the  stage  line, 
where  horses  were  changed  by  the  driver,  P.  G.  Rey- 
nolds. This  location,  I  believe,  is  not  very  far  from 
where  the  present  town  of  Ashland,  county  seat  of  Clark 
county,  is  situated.  Here  we  stopped  and  had  dinner  at 
what  was  called  the  Widow  Brown  ranch.  From  this 
place  we  proceeded  down  the  Bear  Creek  trail  and  reach- 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  99 

ed  the  Cimmaron  River  that  same  evening.  The  river 
being  up,  we  could  not  cross,  and  we  camped  on  the 
North  bank  not  far  from  where  an  old  German  namqd 
Clem  maintained  a  road  ranch.  The  river  as  I  said  was 
full,  and  this  may  seem  strange,  as  it  had  not  rained  in 
this  section  for  more  than  three  months.  The  cause  of 
the  rise  lay  in  the  fact  that  there  had  been  considerable 
rain  in  Colorado.  This  added  to  the  snow  melting  on 
the  mountains  made  the  river  rise  to  its  full  capacity. 
Here  we  had  to  remain  for  three  days,  waiting  till  the 
waters  would  subside  enough  to  permit  a  crossing.  We 
were  not  the  only  ones  that  met  with  an  obstacle  in  our 
progress  by  the  river's  behavior,  but  it  proved  a  boon 
to  us  as  well  as  adding  to  our  store  of  knowledge.  On  the 
other  bank  of  the  river  were  cowpunchers  with  their 
herds  waiting  to  cross  also.  It  was  amusing  and  instruc- 
tive to  us  to  watch  them  in  their  efforts  to  induce  the 
leaders  of  the  herds  to  take  to  the  water.  When  a 
puncher  succeeded  in  getting  the  leaders  into  the  stream, 
he  would  ride  or  swim  his  pony  alongside  of  them  to 
keep  them  from  milling,  or  drifting  down  the  river.  It 
was  very  exciting  to  watch  those  herds  crossing  the 
swollen  stream  with  the  cowboys  yelling  and  whooping 
among  them.  It  seemed  as  if  pandemonium  had  taken  a 
holiday.  By  the  time  the  last  of  the  herds  had  crossed, 
the  river  had  subsided  somewhat,  and  we  pulled  over  to 
the  opposite  side  without  any  great  difficulty.  It  was 
with  a  sigh  of  relief  we  reached  the  solid  footing  on  the 
other  bank. 

Then  we  were  in  the  Territory  and  bade  farewell  to 
civilization  until  we  returned  to  the  North  bank  of  Cim- 
maron River.  We  left  the  Camp  Supply  trail  and  went 
Southward  to  the  old  Custer  trail,  which  was  being  used 
by  the  cowmen  at  that  time.  We  did  not  stop  at  noon 
time,  but  kept  on  our  way,  intending  to  make  a  short 
drive  and  camp  where  the  grass  had  not  been  eaten  off 
by  the  trail  herds,  and  where  there  was  a  supply  of  water 
for  our  stock.  About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  we 


100  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

found  a  satisfactory  location  and  went  into  cainp.  We 
turned  the  horses  loose  to  graze.  They  needed  it,  as  they 
had  been  living  on  rather  short  rations  since  we  had 
started  on  our  jaunt.  For  ourselves,  we  built  a  fire  of 
cow-chips  and  made  out  a  supper  on  bacon  and  flapjacks. 
This  done,  we  looked  over  our  outfit  and  made  what  re- 
pairs were  necessary  for  the  next  day's  drive.  Every- 
thing being  attended  to,  as  security  demanded,  we  turned 
in  for  the  night,  intending  to  make  a  permanent  location 
the  next  day.  As  this  was  my  first  night  in  the  Territory, 
I  must  say  that  I  felt  very  lonesome.  It  was  a  fine  moon- 
light night,  and  the  stars  seemed  to  flicker  and  dance  for 
my  special  benefit.  I  could  see  the  handiwork  of  the 
Great  Creator  all  over  the  firmament  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach,  and  my  admiration  for  the  beauty  of  the 
planetary  system  was  unbounded.  When  I  arose  in  the 
morning  and  threw  the  saddle  on  my  old  favorite  pony, 
Jimmie,  to  get  an  idea  of  the  lay  of  the  land,  things 
seemed  to  look  different.  When  I  had  returned  to  camp 
after  my  survey  of  the  neighborhood,  I  had  come  to  the 
conclusion  from  the  general  appearance  of  the  country 
and  the  great  contrast  with  what  I  had  viewed  from  my 
bed  at  the  wagon,  that  some  Spirit  of  Evil  had  been 
brooding  over  things  in  general,  and  while  in  that  mood 
had  laid  the  country  round  about  in  waste,  and  Nature 
was  doing  her  best  to  restore  it  to  its  primitive  beauty. 
We  travelled  that  day  until  we  discovered  what  we  con- 
sidered an  ideal  spot  to  locate  our  store.  It  was  not 
far  from  the  trail,  and  there  was  plenty  of  good  grass  and 
water  for  our  stock.  We  set  to  work  to  arrange  things 
for  our  purpose,  and  it  was  not  long  before  we  had  things 
in  shape  to  do  business.  Our  tent-store  was,  fortunately, 
placed  about  half  a  mile  from  where  the  cowmen  used  to 
halt  and  bed  down  their  herds  for  the  night.  The  pres- 
ence of  those  men  served  the  purpose  of  breaking  the 
monotony  of  our  surroundings,  for  it  was  a  pleasure  to 
hear  them  singing  as  they  rode  around  their  herds  at 
night  to  render  them  quiet  and  keep  them  from  drifting 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  101 

off  during  the  night.  Not  only  did  they  help  to  pass 
away  the  time  for  us,  but  it  gave  us  an  opportunity  to  do 
a  little  business  also. 

When  we  had  located  and  arranged  things  to  our 
satisfaction,  we  spent  some  time  riding  around  looking 
over  the  situation  and  conjecturing  the  prospects.  We 
found  very  few  range  cattle  in  our  vicinity,  which  I  af- 
terwards learned  was  due  to  the  fact  that  the  ranchers 
kept  their  cattle  away  from  the  trail  so  that  they  would 
not  become  mixed  with  those  on  the  drive,  or  become  in- 
fected with  the  Texas  or  splenic  fever.  For  the  purpose 
of  effecting  this,  they  maintained  men  along  the  trail 
to  turn  back  any  range  cattle  that  showed  a  tendency  to 
wander  in  the  direction  of  the  through  herds.  During 
our  ride  we  killed  a  brace  of  wild  turkeys,  and  this  gave 
us  a  welcome  change  from  the  monotony  of  rusty  bacon. 

Things  did  not  look  very  prosperous  as  yet,  and  I 
began  to  think  that  I  had  made  my  journey  to  no  pur- 
pose, and  would  likely  have  to  haul  my  load  back  to 
Kansas  again.  While  in  this  frame  of  mind,  and  not 
being  very  cheerful  over  it,  sitting  in  the  shade  of  my 
tent,  a  man  rode  up  to  my  emporium  of  commerce.  We 
passed  the  usual  salutations  and  had  a  chat.  In  the  midst 
of  our  conversation  he  informed  me  that  lie  had  met  a 
man  who  would  likely  purchase  some  of  my  wares.  I 
could  hardly  realize  the  gist  of  his  remark,  as  it  was  such 
a  surprise,  although  I  was  there  for  the  purpose  of  sell- 
ing goods.  I  managed  to  recover  from  the  shock  with 
considerable  alacrity,  and  invited  him  into  my  tent.  He 
looked  over  my  stock  of  goods,  and  before  he  left  me  he 
had  purchased  more  than  half  of  it,  and  gave  in  payment 
an  order  on  Wright  &  Beverly.  He  said  that  his  herd  would 
be  along  in  the  evening,  and  he  would  have  the  grub 
wagon  load  up  the  purchases. 

That  evening  the  herd  came  along,  and  as  the  place 
was  the  bedding  ground  for  the  through  herds,  they  made 
the  necessary  preparations  for  putting  in  the  night.  When 
the  cowpunchers  had  eaten  supper,  they  came  over  to  our 


102  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

tent  to  purchase  supplies  of  tobacco  and  cartridges.  As 
there  was  nothing  else  to  do,  and  as  we  had  been  getting 
rather  lonesome  in  our  retired  place,  we  spent  the  even- 
ing agreeably,  spinning  yarns,  relating  experiences  of  the 
trail,  etc.  In  the  meantime  the  grub  wagon  arrived  and 
was  loaded  with  the  goods  purchased  earlier  in  the  day. 
Before  bidding  us  good  night,  the  boys  invited  us  to  take 
breakfast  with  them  on  the  following  morning.  We  ac- 
cepted, and  shortly  after  daybreak  we  heard  the  cook's 
cheerful  announcement  that  "chuekaway1"  was  ready. 
As  the  wagon  was  near  our  tent  we  did  not  have  far  to 
go,  and  before  we  reached  it  all  hands  were  up  and 
dressed  and  ready  for  the  morning  repast.  We  were 
somewhat  surprised  to  find  that  the  cook  had  fried  salt 
bacon  for  the  boys.  In  explanation  of  this  he  said  that 
they  were  tired  of  fresh  meat.  We  were  weary  of  salt 
bacon,  but  good  manners  forbade  our  saying  so,  and  we 
did  our  share  with  as  much  gusto  as  possible.  A  little 
fresh  beef  would  have  been  much  to  our  liking  just  then. 
By  the  time  breakfast  was  over,  the  horse  wrangler  had 
arrived  with  the  saddle  stock.  Ropes  were  stretched,  one 
from  the  front  wheel  and  one  from  the  rear  wheel  of  the 
wagon,  and  the  horses  driven  in  between  them,  where 
each  man  roped  his  mount  for  the  day.  The  cook  and  the 
wrangler  then  attended  to  their  own  wants.  After  cov- 
ering the  camp-fires  with  soil  to  prevent  the  fire  from 
spreading  over  the  prairie,  they  were  ready  to  set  out 
on  their  long  jaunt  to  Montana,  or  some  other  feeding 
ground.  We  bade  the  boys  good-bye  and  returned  to 
our  store  to  await  new  arrivals. 

As  the  business  of  the  preceding  day  had  been  more 
than  I  expected  from  the  general  survey  of  things  when 
I  first  arrived,  I  soon  saw  that  if  I  had  another  customer 
of  the  same  dimensions  of  the  first  one,  I  would  have 
very  little  with  which  to  do  business.  I  determined  to 
send  Bill  to  Dodge  City  for  another  load  of  provisions. 
I  made  out  a  list  of  what  I  wanted,  greased  the  wagon 
and  started  him  off.  Under  favorable  conditions,  he 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  103 

should  make  the  trip  in  about  eight  or  ten  days,  but  if 
the  roads  became  bad,  it  would  require  a  much  longer 
time.    Before  he  left  I  had  him  make  a  good  store  of  bis- 
cuits for  me,  as  I  was  not  able  to  turn  out  an  article  of 
the  kind  that  would  coincide  with  the  digestive  powers 
of  any  human  being.     I  gave  him  strict  orders,  among 
the  other  things,  not  to  forget  to  bring  something  to  read, 
as  there  was  nothing  at  hand  for  that  purpose  except  a 
Patent  Medicine  pamphlet,  and  I  had  read  that  so  often 
and  so  thoroughly  that  I  had  some  of  the  symptoms  of 
seven   different   maladies  that  were   therein   pronounced 
fatal.    If  I  had  been  in  the  neighborhood  of  a  drug  store 
at  the  time  I  should  have  bought  a  supply  of  the  cure-all 
regardless  of  results.  Living  as  I  was  at  the  time,  alone,  I 
escaped  the  consequences  of  both  the  cure-all  and  the  dis- 
eases mentioned  in  the  pamphlet.   When  Bill  was  well  on 
his  way,  I  meandered  around  into  the  tent  and  out  again, 
down  to  the  creek  and  back  again;  in  fact,  I  was  just 
like  a  stray  colt,  did  not  know  where  to  go,  nor  what  to 
do.    I  soon  discovered  what  my  malady  was.  It  was  lone- 
someness  in  its  direst  form.     It  settled  on  me  like  a  fog 
settling  over  a  marsh.    It  penetrated  my  very  being.  Ev- 
erywhere I  went  I  could  feel  it.    Whatever  I  saw  seemed 
tinged  with  it.    I  tried  drinking  strong  coffee  to  drive  It 
out,  but  that  was  no  avail,  so  I  saddled  old  Jimmje  and 
took  a  ride  over  the  prairie.     On  my  way  back  to  camp 
I  killed  a  wild  gobbler,  thus  providing  myself  with  fresh 
meat.    The  cleaning  and  cooking  of  my  prize  relieved  the 
monotony  a  trifle.     I  don't  know  whether  I  cooked  him 
according  to  the  recipe  in  the  latest  cook  book  published, 
but  in  any  case  he  tasted  fine.    My  pony  seemed  to  realize 
how  lonely  I  was,  for  whenever  I  went  out  of  my  tent  he 
endeavored  to  come  to  me,  and  strained  at  his  rope  to 
approach  as  near  as  possible.    I  went  over  to  him  and  he 
put  his  head  on  my  shoulder  and  seemed  to  say,  "It's  all 
right,  Dennis,  Bill  will  be  back  in  a  few  days  and  then 
you  will  have  company.     In  the  meantime  I  shall  try  to 
keep  you   from   becoming   too  lonesome."     Needless  to 


104  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

say,  I  put  in  considerable  time  with  old  Jimmie,  currying 
him  and  fixing  his  water  and  feed  in  the  best  manner 
possible.  I  loved  old  Jimmie,  for  he  was  my  friend.  I 
knew  not  at  what  hour,  nor  what  moment,  my  life  would 
depend  on  his  fidelity,  and  I  knew  that  I  could  rely 
upon  him  to  the  last  breath. 

One  day  followed  another  without  any  perceptible 
difference  between  one  and  the  other.  In  my  surroundings 
I  lost  track  of  the  time.  I  was  longing  for  the  return  of 
my  partner,  and  continued  to  picture  the  progress  of  his 
journey,  where  he  was,  what  he  was  doing,  etc.  I  felt 
like  Robinson  Crusoe,  and  in  some  respects  his  plight 
was  more  endurable  than  mine.  He  declared  himself  the 
monarch  of  all  he  surveyed,  and  his  right  there  was  none 
to  dispute.  Not  so  would  he  have  issued  his  declaration 
if  he  were  living  in  the  Territory  at  the  time,  as  his  right 
would  likely  be  disputed  by  the  first  man  that  came 
along,  and  as  for  there  being  a  monarchy  at  the  time,  it 
was  not  thinkable,  at  least  under  the  conditions  in  which 
I  was  living. 

That  was  a  time  when  every  man  was  supposed  to 
remain  silent  about  what  he  had  heard,  and  have  very 
little  to  say  about  what  he  saw.  Horse  stealing  had  be- 
come quite  an  industry  at  the  time,  and  was  carried  on 
by  bands  of  outlaws  between  Arkansas,  Missouri  and 
Colorado.  As  there  was  no  telephone,  telegraph  or  mail 
facilities,  they  were  comparatively  free  from  detection, 
especially  as  they  travelled  through  the  most  unfrequent- 
ed parts  of  the  country.  Their  route  brought  them 
through  the  section  where  I  was  camped.  One  day  I  saw 
five  of  them  coming  in  my  direction,  attracted  by  the 
sight  of  my  tent.  When  they  arrived  where  I  was  sitting, 
I  invited  them  to  dismount  and  come  into  my  tent.  They 
did  so.  They  inquired  if  I  had  any  tobacco,  and  I  told 
them  that  was  one  of  the  commodities  I  was  dealing  in 
at  the  time.  As  that  was  all  they  wanted,  they  bought 
several  pounds  and  then  prepared  to  depart.  I  invited 
them  to  remain  to  dinner  and  they  accepted  the  invita- 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  105 

tion.  When  they  had  consented  to  be  my  guests,  I  told 
them  I  had  everything  to  make  a  first-class  meal,  but 
was  short  on  biscuits,  and  could  not  make  them  as  I  did 
not  know  how,  and  I  said  I  would  be  pleased  if  one  of 
them  would  make  them.  One  of  them  remarked,  "Now, 
Jack,  there  is  a  jo  bfor  you."  I  pulled  out  a  sack  of  flour, 
a  can  of  baking  powder,  gave  one  of  them  the  coffee  mill 
to  grind  some  coifee,  took  a  bucket  and  started  for  the 
creek  for  a  pail  of  fresh  water.  The  rest  of  them  busied 
themselves  building  a  fire  of  cowchips,  and  things  began 
to  take  on  the  appearance  of  home.  When  Jack  had  his 
biscuits  ready,  I  brought  out  my  select  assortment  of  tin- 
ware, passed  around  plates,  knives,  forks  and  whatever 
else  was  necessary,  and  we  all  set  to  work  with  a  gusto. 
The  gobbler,  biscuits  and  other  edibles  did  not  last  long, 
as  each  of  us  seemed  to  have  a  first-class  appetite.  While 
eating  and  joking  at  the  same  time,  I  told  them  of  the 
reason  of  my  asking  them  to  remain  for  dinner,  namely, 
that  I  was  out  of  biscuits  and  that  I  was  tired  of  living 
on  crackers,  and  I  knew  there  would  be  some  one  in  the 
crowd  who  would  be  able  to  make  them.  I  saw,  besides, 
that  their  horses  were  jaded,  and  told  them  they  might  as 
well  remain  for  a  time  to  rest  their  stock.  In  all  my 
joking  and  talking  with  them  I  took  particular  care  not 
to  ask  them  whence  they  came,  nor  whither  they  were 
going,  nor  what  their  business  was  in  that  part  of  the 
country,  as  that  would  be  the  height  of  impropriety.  Af- 
ter we  had  chatted  for  a  considerable  time,  they  took  the 
saddles  off  their  horses,  picketed  one  or  two,  and  turned 
the  others  loose  to  graze.  My  loneliness  was  fast  disap- 
pearing as  the  result  of  companionship  of  my  fellowmen, 
even  if  they  were  a  gang  of  horse  thieves,  and  as  a  result 
I  began  to  feel  better  and  things  began  to  wear  a  differ- 
ent aspect.  I  recalled  a  statement  made  by  some  one 
that  it  was  not  good  for  man  to  be  alone,  and  I  found  it 
true,  and  made  a  resolution  that  I  would  never  be  left 
alone  again  in  the  future. 

That  night  I  saddled  up  old  Jimrnie,  and  taking  one 


106  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

of  my  visitors,  went  out  in  search  of  some  wild  turkeys. 
I  'had  previously  seen  a  flock  in  the  neighborhood,  and 
had  a  fairly  good  idea  of  where  they  were  roosting.  As 
soon  as  the  moon  had  come  up  we  began  looking  around 
among  the  trees  that  grew  along  the  bank  of  the  creek, 
and  to  our  great  delight  discovered  a  few.  We  secured 
two  of  them  and  returned  to  camp.  Next  morning,  Jack, 
who  had  been  delegated  to  cook  for  us  during  his  visit, 
was  up  and  had  the  game  dressed  in  the  most  approved 
fashion,  and  had  also  turned  out  a  new  supply  of  biscuits. 
When  I  rolled  out  of  my  blanket  I  discovered  that  my 
company  was  made  up  of  early  and  energetic  risers,  and 
I  was  delighted  to  know  that  the  cook  had  done  so  well, 
and  showed  my  appreciation  later.  The  rest  of  the  group 
had  gone  off  in  search  of  their  stock,  and  were  then  re- 
turing.  Breakfast  was  ready  by  that  time,  and  we  all  set 
to  without  much  preliminary  apology  for  poor  appetites, 
for  we  had  good  ones.  The  service  was  rather  plain;  a 
tomato  can  served  the  purpose  of  a  sugar  bowl,  a  sardine 
can  for  a  salt  cellar,  and  other  utensils  were  provided  in 
the  same  manner.  During  the  meal  one  of  the  boys 
asked  me  which  was  the  best  way  through  No  Man's  Land 
to  Colorado.  I  divined  immediately  that  they  were  horse 
thieves,  for  I  had  only  a  suspicion  of  it  before.  I  gave 
him  some  kind  of  an  answer,  and  I  do  not  know  whether 
it  proved  satisfactory  to  them  or  not.  Breakfast  being- 
attended  to  and  the  dishes  washed  and  put  away,  they 
made  preparations  for  departure.  They  thanked  me  for 
my  kindness  and  assured  me  that  they  would  be  glad  to 
meet  me  at  any  time  or  place.  When  they  had  gone  I 
began  to  feel  the  loss  of  company  again,  but  I  also  began 
to  realize  the  danger  I  had  encountered  owing  to  their 
brief  stay,  for  if  a  posse  of  officers  had  happened  along 
while  they  were  my  guests,  it  would  have  been  hard  for 
me  to  explain  my  compromising  position.  As  it  is  usually 
the  innocent  bystander  that  gets  hurt,  1  suppose  I  should 
have  been  the  one  to  suffer,  as  there  would  have  been 
some  very  warm  work  for  a  while.  There  was  one  thing 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  107 

impressed  itself  on  my  mind  very  much  during  the  stay 
of  my  visitors,  and  that  was  the  absence  of  vulgar  or 
profane  language.  That  went  to  prove  that  they  had 
had  good  training  by  good  parents  who  would  have  been 
proud  of  their  personality,  though  they  could  not  ap- 
prove of  their  occupation. 

When  they  had  gone  over  the  hill  on  their  way,  I 
thought  I  would  improve  my  time  by  writing  a  few  let- 
ters. I  improvised  a  table  for  the  purpose  by  bringing 
into  service  a  cracker-box.  The  remainder  of  my  office 
fixtures  were  in  keeping  with  my  desk.  However,  I  was 
not  ashamed  of  my  surroundings,  and  sat  down  to  write 
with  all  the  dignity  of  an  Indian  chief  sitting  in  council. 
It  dawned  upon  me  suddenly  that  it  might  be  weeks  be- 
fore I  would  have  an  opportunity  to  post  them,  and  as  I 
was  doing  it  to  ward  off  another  attack  of  lonesomeness, 
I  decided  that  a  good  walk  over  the  surrounding  neigh- 
borhood would  serve  the  purpose  as  well.  In  my  travels 
I  discovered  a  cloud  of  dust  rising  on  the  horizon,  and 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  there  was  another  herd  com- 
ing along  the  trail,  and  it  would  only  be  a  matter  of  a  few 
hours  before  they  would  arrive  at  the  regular  halting 
place.  I  returned  to  camp  and  made  out  a  lunch  from 
the  remnants  of  the  breakfast,  and  then  saddled  old  Jim- 
mie  and  set  out  to  meet  the  oncoming  herd.  I  wanted  to 
get  acquainted  with  them  as  much  as  circumstances 
would  permit,  find  out  if  they  had  any  lame  cattle  they 
thought  would  be  unable  to  make  the  journey  to  Dakota, 
Montana,  or  wherever  they  were  going,  and  what  would 
be  the  possibilities  of  a  trade.  If  they  would  not  ask  too 
much  I  felt  that  I  could  make  a  little  money  by  doctoring 
them  myself  and  disposing  of  them  afterward.  When  I 
came  up  to  the  cowmen  they  seemed  to  look  at  me  with 
suspicion,  as  they  did  not  expect  to  find  a  white  man  in 
that  section  of  the  country.  When  I  explained  to  the  fore- 
man the  nature  of  my  business  in  that  part  of  the  Ter- 
ritory, he  seemed  very  much  pleased  to  meet  me,  and  to 
know  that  I  was  selling  goods  that  fre  needed,  as  lie  had 


108  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

not  had  a  chew  of  tobacco  since  he  had  left  the  Red 
River,  nor  lard  enough  to  grease  a  skillet.  I  looked  over 
the  herd  and  made  an  estimate  of  the  number  of  lame 
cattle  they  had.  I  rode  back  to  my  camp  thinking  over 
the  situation,  and  when  they  arrived  later  I  figured  up 
what  I  was  willing  to  pay  for  the  lame  and  footsore 
cattle  they  had  in  the  group.  As  soon  as  they  arrived, 
the  foreman  rode  over  to  my  tent  to  look  at  the  goods  I 
had  in  stock.  He  purchased  about  what  I  had  remaining 
after  the  previous  sale.  While  talking  on  things  in  gen- 
eral he  remarked  that  he  would  have  to  remain  where  he 
was  for  a  day  or  so  in  order  to  let  the  stock  rest,  as  he 
had  driven  them  rather  rapidly  owing  to  the  fact  that 
the  Comanches  were  troublesome  to  him  while  he  was 
passing  through  their  reservation,  and  he  had  to  hasten 
along  in  order  to  get  away  from  them.  That  determination 
to  rest  was  as  pleasing  to  me  as  it  was  to  the  cowpunch- 
ers,  and  the  cattle  showed  it  was  agreeable  to  them,  as 
they  looked  exhausted,  which  was  inevitable  after  a  long 
and  furious  drive.  I  sauntered  over  to  where  the  cow- 
boys were  gathered  around  the  grub  wagon,  and  soon 
was  on  friendly  terms  with  them  as  far  as  short  acquaint- 
ance would  permit.  I  heard  the  cook  complaining  about 
the  dog,  saying  he  would  have  to  get  rid  of  him  as  he 
was  always  nosing  into  everything,  and  had  become  a 
nuisance.  I  told  him  that  I  would  gladly  take  him  for 
the  sake  of  his  company,  and  he  was  handed  over  to  me. 
I  did  not  know  that  I  was  adding  to  my  misfortunes  or 
afflictions  when  I  received  him,  though  I  might  have  sus- 
pected it  from  the  ease  with  which  the  cook  parted  with 
him. 

Next  morning  found  me  riding  around  the  herd  in 
company  with  the  foreman,  looking  over  the  lame  cattle, 
or  drags,  as  they  called  them.  I  examined  them  very  care- 
fully, and  made  a  dicker  for  about  fifteen  head.  He 
agreed  to  have  his  men  help  me  rope  and  brand  them,  to 
cross  out  the  road  brand,  and  also  hobble  them  and  help 
me  doctor  their  sore  feet.  We  built  a  fire  to  heat  the 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  109 

branding  irons,  and  soon  everything  was  ready  for  the 
operation.  I  placed  my  brand  upon  them,  a  ladder  on  the 
left  side  and  a  crop  off  the  left  ear.  While  the  irons  were 
hot,  I  cauterized  their  sore  feet,  and  applying  tar  and 
turpentine,  wrapped  them  up  in  gunny  sacks  and  turned 
them  away  from  the  herd  to  graze  along  the  creek.  Many 
hands  make  light  work,  and  we  were  through  with  our 
task  before  noon.  To  complete  the  transaction,  the  fore- 
man wrote  out  a  bill  of  sale  for  me,  giving  a  general  de- 
scription of  the  cattle  and  the  road  brands,  signed  it  in 
the  presence  of  witnesses,  and  turned  it  over  to  me  to 
secure  me  against  all  claims  for  the  stock  I  had  pur- 
chased. This  being  done,  I  wrote  out  a  check  for  him, 
and  the  sale  was  complete.  I  began  to  feel  as  though  I 
were  somewhat  of  a  cowman  myself  when  I  looked  down 
toward  the  creek  to  where  my  stock  was  grazing.  I  soon 
found  out  that  I  had  much  to  learn. 

A  Bill  of  Sale  was  necessary'  in  a  cow  country,  and 
it  was  my  only  protection  against  the  claim  of  some  other 
cowman  who  might  assert  that  the  stock  had  broken 
away  from  his  herd  in  a  storm,  and  might  say  that  I  had 
caught  and  branded  them.  If  the  case  were  so,  I  might 
not  only  have  the  cattle  taken  away  from  me,  but  I  would 
be  lucky  if  they  did  not  treat  me  as  a  cattle  thief.  But 
with  the  Bill  of  Sale  safely  tucked  away  in  the  safety 
deposit  vault,  which  in  this  case  was  a  cracker  box,  I  felt 
easy  about  the  matter. 

Our  business  being  completed,  we  sat  around  chat- 
ting and  narrating  experiences  on  the  plains.  Even  this 
palled  011  us  after  a  time,  and  one  of  the  boys,  in  order  to 
relieve  the  tedium  of  the  delay,  proposed  a  horse  race. 
That  suggestion  seemed  to  please  them  generally.  The  pro^ 
posal  was  greeted  with  'enthusiasm,  but  it  was  a  difficult 
matter  to  arrange  the  proper  distance,  or  the  amount  of 
the  wager.  I  was  asked  if  I  would  care  to  take  part  in 
the  race,  and  I  replied  that  I  could  not  say  until  I  had 
seen  who  and  what  I  was  to  compete  with.  That  morn- 
ing I  had  noticed  on  my  trip  around  the  herd  that  their 


110  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

horses  seemed  pretty  well  jaded  from  their  long  trip 
from  San  Antonio  to  the  North  side  of  the  Territory,  and 
did  not  seem  equal  to  a  very  long  race.  Just  then  one  of 
the  boys  came  up  with  a  bunch  of  horses,  and  one  of  them 
was  roped.  They  began  to  saddle  him  and  one  of  the 
boys  asked,  * '  Are  you  going  to  run  old  Pinkeye  ?  If  you 
are,  I  am  willing  to  bet  a  dollar  on  him  if  Slim  Jim  rides 
him."  The  boys  continued  to  parley  about  what  they 
would  and  would  not  do,  and  finally  they  asked  me  to 
match  my  horse  against  Pinkeye  with  Slim  Jim  for  rider. 
I  consented  to  make  the  match  if  we  could  arrange  the 
preliminaries.  I  said  I  would  ride  a  half  mile  or  a  quar- 
ter mile  dash,  whichever  they  preferred.  They  asked 
me  who  would  ride  my  horse,  and  I  remarked  that  I 
thought  I  would  perform  that  duty  myself.  A  knowing 
look  and  an  incipient  smile  lighted  up  their  countenances 
when  I  volunteered  my  information.  One  of  the  wise  ones 
asked  me  where  I  came  from,  and  I  told  him  maidstone 
Cross,  Canada.  Right  there  he  set  me  down  for  a  tender- 
foot, and  was  out  to  have  some  sport  with  me.  As  far  as 
they  were  concerned  the  race  was  as  good  as  won,  and  all 
that  remained  was  the  shouting.  Of  course,  we  should 
have  to  go  through  the  formality  of  a  race,  but  that  was 
of  minor  importance  as  far  as  the  wager  was  concerned. 
If  ignorance  is  bliss,  they  had  a  right  to  be  supremely 
happy.  They  did  not  know  that  my  pony,  Old  Jimmie, 
had  not  missed  a  feed  of  grain  during  the  past  six  months, 
and  likewise  they  were  not  aware  of  the  fact  that  I  had 
handled  horses  all  my  life  and  had  spent  the  preceding 
four  years  on  the  plains.  Yes,  Jimmie  was  the  dark  horse 
of  the  race,  as  he  wras  in  prime  condition,  and  had  just 
enough  ex'ercise  for  the  past  few  weeks  to  keep  him  in 
splendid  shape.  Of  course  the  race  looked  bad  for  me, 
as  I  weighed  two  hundred  pounds  and  Slim  about  one 
hundred  and  thirty.  The  odds  seemed  so  much  in  favor 
of  Slim  that  I  demanded  twenty-five  yards  start  for  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  race,  and  I  wagered  a  side  of  bacon 
against  a  three-year-old  steer.  We  finally  compromised 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  111 

the  matter  by  my  being  allowed  twenty  yards  start,  and 
the  bet  to  remain  as  it  was.  I  saddled  up  Old  Jimmie 
and  we  then  made  the  necessary  measurements,  starting 
point,  etc.,  in  proper  form.  The  signal  for  starting  was 
to  be  a  shot  from  the  foreman's  gun.  The  crowd  would 
decide  the  winner,  as  they  were  to  congregate  at  the  win- 
ning post.  We  drew  up  to  the  mark  and  announced  that 
all  was  ready.  The  gun  flashed  and  we  were  off.  When 
about  half  the  distance  was  traversed,  I  looked  back  and 
discovered  that  Pinkeye  was  not  making  as  good  a  run 
as  I  expected,  so  I  slackened  my  pace  a  trifle  and  crossed 
the  line  a  winner  by  about  five  yards,  which  would  show 
that  Jim  and  Pinkeye  had  gained  about  fifteen  yards  in 
the  struggle.  Then  the  air  was  rent  with  shouts  and 
whoops  for  the  victor.  Roars  of  laughter  followed  one 
another  at  Jim's  discomfiture,  and  he  came  in  for  some 
real  joshing.  "Oh,  shucks!  Jim,  you  can't  ride  and  Pink- 
eye can't  run  fast  enough  to  catch  a  milch  cow.  Next 
time  you  ought  to  race  with  a  bull  train." 

After  the  first  round  of  excitement  and  merriment 
had  subsided,  they  proposed  another  race  for  the  same 
wager.  They  wanted  to  make  it  an  even  start,  but  I 
would  not  agree  to  that,  but  they  finally  consented  to 
give  me  ten  yards  start.  Back  we  went  to  try  it  over 
again.  By  this  time  Old  Jimmie  began  to  do  some  fancy 
side-stepping  and  prancing,  just  to  show  that  he  had  im- 
bibed enough  of  the  spirit  of  the  race  to  make  him  feel 
good,  and  I  was  satisfied  that  he  was  in  better  fettle  than 
at  the  opening  of  the  first  heat.  The  foreman  called,  "All 
ready,"  fired  his  gun  and  away  we  went  again,  Slim  Jim 
pouring  the  rawhide  into  Pinkeye.  This  time  I  did  not 
hold  back,  especially  as  I  heard  Jim  urging  his  pony  by 
words  and  quirt,  but  I  had  no  fears  about  the  outcome, 
as  Old  Jimmie  would  not  permit  anything  to.  pass  him 
as  long  as  he  was  able  to  throw  a  hoof  forward.  When 
we  reached  the  line,  we  were  in  about  the  same  relative 
positions  as  when  we  started.  He  had  not  gained  a  yard 
on  Jimmie.  The  usual  whooping  and  yelling  took  place 


112  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

again.  As  it  was  getting  late,  I  thought  it  best  to  get 
my  two  steers,  brand  and  hobble  them  and  put  them 
with  the  rest  of  the  little  bunch  I  had  bought  earlier  in 
the  day.  The  boys  good-humoredly  branded  them  and 
the  foreman  wrote  out  another  Bill  of  Sale  which  I 
tucked  away  with  the  other.  As  there  was  nothing  else 
to  do  after  the  racing  was  over,  I  took  a  couple  of  the 
boys  and  we  went  out  and  brought  in  a  few  wild  turkeys 
which  the  cook  dressed  and  cooked  for  the  evening  meal. 
The  rest  of  the  evening  we  spent  in  chatting  about  life  on 
the  trail. 

Next  morning  they  set  out  on  their  long  drive  to 
Montana.  I  rode  with  them  a  few  miles,  bade  them  fare- 
well, and  returned  to  my  duties  at  the  camp.  When  I 
reached  my  tent,  I  found  that  the  old  dog,  Nero,  had 
declared  himself  dictator,  and  positively  refused  to  let 
me  enter.  I  could  hardly  blame  him,  as  there  had  been 
so  many  around  since  I  acquired  possession  of  him  that 
he  could  not  figure  out  to  whom  he  belonged.  I  went  to 
my  saddle  and  took  down  my  lariat  rope  and  gave  him 
a  liberal  application  of  it,  and  established  order  once 
more  on  the  premises.  To  rehabilitate  myself  in  his  af- 
fection I  brought  him  out  a  good  meal  of  bread  and  cold 
turkey.  With  nothing  else  at  hand  to  require  my  at- 
tention at  the  tent,  I  rode  down  to  where  my  herd  was 
feeding  to  see  if  any  of  them  had  wandered  off.  They 
were  all  there  and  I  felt  satisfied. 

On  my  arrival  at  the  camp  on  my  return,  I  found  a 
man  sitting  on  his  horse  awaiting  my  coming.  He 
introduced  'himself  as  a  line-rider  of  the  Y.  L.  ranch. 
I  invited  him  to  come  in  and  make  himself  at  home.  He 
gave  me  his  name  as  Jack  Jernigan,  and  said  that  he  had 
been  an  employee  of  the  ranch  for  some  time.  I  asked 
him  to  remain  for  dinner  and  he  accepted  the  invitation. 
I  apologized  for  my  inability  to  make  bread.  He  assured 
me  that  I  need  not  apologize  as  he  would  attend  to  that 
part  of  the  matter  if  I  would  attend  to  the  business  of 
making  a  fire  and  getting  the  coffee  prepared.  His  visit 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  113 

was  a  welcome  one  as  it  dispelled  an  idea  that  was 
forcing  itself  on  me  that  I  was  likely  to  be  alone  for  some 
time.  His  visit  was  short,  but  as  he  lived  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, he  promised  to  come  frequently  to  see  me,  and 
he  lived  up  to  his  promise,  frequently  bringing  turkey 
or  venison  with  him  as  a  proof  of  his  markmaiiship  and 
thoughtfulness  of  me  in  my  lonesome  condition.  In  this 
way  our  friendship  was  cemented.  When  my  visitor  left 
me,  I  often  experienced  touches  of  lonesomeness  that  not 
'even  the  presence  of  Nero  could  abate.  Instead  of  being 
a  companion  and  comfort  to  me,  he  was  just  the  reverse. 
He  spent  his  days  chasing  rabbits,  and  made  the  nights 
hideous  with  the  howls  he  emitted  in  answer  to  the  call 
of  the  denizens  of  the  wild.  One  night  as  I  felt  very 
tired  from  a  long  jaunt  I  had  taken,  I  decided  as  there 
was  no  business  to  attend  to,  that  I  would  have  a  good 
night's  rest.  I  spread  my  blankets  and  settled  down  to 
slumber.  I  had  turned  the  dog  loose  to  take  a  run  at 
leisure  over  the  plain.  I  was  just  dozing  off  into  slum- 
berland  when  I  heard  a  noise  approaching.  I  could  not 
distinguish  what  it  was.  It  sounded  like  a  cross  between 
a  fog-horn  and  a  calliope.  Before  I  could  get  dressed,  in 
fact,  before  I  got  my  hat  on,  N,ero  came  tearing  over  the 
plain  like  a  miniature  cyclone.  He  rush'ed  up  to  me  and 
got  between  my  legs  for  protection.  I  grabbed  my  six- 
shooter  and  went  on  a  tour  of  investigaion.  I  had  hardly 
gone  a  hundred  yards  when  I  heard  a  coyote,  and  there 
never  crossed  the  Atlantic  a  bagpiper  who  could  emit 
such  a  variety  of  sounds  as  that  coyote  worked  out  of 
his  system.  He  had  been  the  cause  of  my  dog's  commo- 
tion. I  returned  to  the  tent  for  my  Winchester,  hoping 
to  get  a  shot  at  him,  but  it  was  of  no  use,  he  had  gone 
away.  One  thing  I  discovered  in  my  midnight  ramble 
was  the  fact  that  a  mother  skunk  had  moved  into  the 
neighborhood  with  her  whole  family.  There  is  one  thing 
that  a  cowman  dreads  very  much  and  that  is  the  bite 
of  a  skunk.  I  knew  personally  two  cases  where  men  had 
died  of  hydrophobia  after  being  bitten  by  the  malodorous 


114  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

brutes.  In  my  state  of  mind,  sleep  was  out  of  the 
question  until  I  had  destroyed  or  driven  away  the  new- 
comers. When  I  reached  the  neighborhood  of  the  late 
arrivals  ,  I  walked  very  cautiously,  as  a  skunk  is  con- 
structed very  much  on  the  principal  of  a  "Queen  Anne" 
musket,  there  was  danger  at  'either  end,  but  it  was  hard 
to  determine  which  end  had  the  greater  executionary 
power.  As  there  was  very  little  moonlight,  I  could  not 
get  a  very  good  aim  at  them.  When  I  thought  I  had 
located  them  properly  I  began  to  blaze  away  with  my 
Winchester,  and  kept  up  the  fusilade  until  the  chamber 
of  the  gun  was  empty.  Next  morning  I  was  delighted  to 
find  that  I  had  killed  four  of  my  unsavory  visitors,  and 
at  the  same  time  felt  proud  of  my  marksmanship  in  the 
dark.  However,  I  had  little  rest  during  the  night  as  I 
was  not  sure  of  my  shots,  and  I  did  not  like  to  take  any 
risks  with  them,  so  I  spent  the  remainder  of  the  night 
soliloquizing  on  things  in  general  and  nothing  in  par- 
ticular. During  my  vigil  I  heard  the  wheels  of  a  wagon 
rumbling  along  the  trail  and  I  knew  it  was  Bill  returning 
with  more  goods.  I  built  a  fire  and  made  some  coffee 
for  him  as  I  knew  he  must  be  tired  after  his  long  journey. 
After  arranging  matters  in  a  sufficiently  satisfactory 
manner  for  the  rest  of  the  night,  we  sat  and  talked  over 
our  experiences  since  we  parted.  "We  spent  an  hour  or 
so  in  this  manner  and  then  turned  in  for  a  good  solid 
sleep.  Morning  came  and  we  pat  things  in  shape  for 
business  and  awaited  our  next  customer.  We  went  down 
to  the  creek  to  take  a  look  at  the  stock,  and  it  was  weU 
we  did  so  as  some  of  them  needed  such  medical  attention 
as  we  could  give  them.  As  Bill  had  brought  some  books 
and  papers,  I  felt  much  relieved.  I  discovered  that,  on 
consulting  the  almanac,  we  had  done  our  horse  racing 
and  trading  on  Sunday.  However,  as  I  was  in  complete 
ignorance  of  the  day,  I  hope  it  will  not  be  held 
against  me. 

It  may  be  of  interest  to  the  reader  to  know  that  the 
Comanche  Indians  and  Texans  had  not  been  very  friendly 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  115 

since  Texas  had  gained  her  independence  from  Mexico. 
The  Comanches  claimed  that  the  Texans  had  been  stealing 
their  horses,  and  also  their  cattle,  and  the  Texans  put 
in  a  counter  claim  of  the  same  nature,  and  in  addition 
to  the  stock  the  Indians  were  said  to  have  taken, 
they  kidnapped  their  children  whenever  an  oppor- 
tunity presented  itself.  As  a  proof  that  there  was  some 
truth  in  the  statement  of  the  Texans,  I  will  say  that 
Quanah  Parker,  the  late  chief  of  the  Comanches  was  the 
son  of  a  white  mother  who  had  been  kidnapped  when 
a  child  from  a  Texan  family.  He  was  a  good  chief  and 
held  in  high  repute  by  the  whites  as  well  as  by  the  mem- 
bers of  his  own  tribe.  The  result  of  the  habit  of  carrying- 
off  the  white  children  may  be  seen  in  the  features  of 
many  of  the  tribesmen  today.  The  unfriendly  feeling 
caused  by  those  savage  incursions  exists  today,  and  will 
continue  to  do  so  for  ages  to  come.  It  is  true  they  do  a 
little  business  with  each  other,  but  a  close  observer  can 
readily  see  that  it  would  take  a  very  small  spark  to 
set  the  flames  of  hatred  and  vengeance  aglow  once  more. 
The  Texans  in  driving  their  battle  northwards  were 
compelled  to  pass  through  the  Comanche  country,  and  the 
Comanche  had  advanced  far  'enough  in  the  white  man's 
ways  to  levy  tribute  from  them.  It  was  not  long  after 
a  herd  had  passed  the  Red  River  until  an  Indian,  or 
perhaps  several  of  them,  made  a  visit  to  the  cowmen  and 
demanded  "wohaw,"  or  in  other  words,  beef.  That 
meant  the  delivering  over  of  one  or  more  steers.  The 
Texan  understood  the  situation  well  enough  to  make  no 
refusal  to  demand.  If  he  failed  to  comply  with  the 
demand,  that  night,  the  same  Indian  would  likely  appear 
among  the  herd  in  the  guise  of  a  gray  wolf,  or  a  cougar, 
and  stampede  the  herd.  Such  a  movement  would  cost 
more  than  the  price  of  a  brace  of  steers,  as  it  would  take 
days  to  collect  the  cattle  once  they  scattered,  and  some 
of  the  stock  they  might  never  see  again.  Without  much 
parley  they  turned  over  the  stock  to  them  and  the  Indian 
went  on  his  way  rejoicing.  The  first  demand  did  not 


116  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

always  settle  the  difficulty,  as  they  were  likely  to  appear 
again  in  a  day  or  so  and  demand  more.  Surh  a  course 
of  proceedings  was  very  expensive  and  aggravating  to 
the  cowmen,  and  as  a  consequence  they  pushed  on  as 
rapidly  as  possible  to  get  away  from  the  dark  shadow 
of  the  trail,  and  get  over  into  Chickasaw,  or  Caddo 
country  to  avoid  further  trouble.  By  the  time  they 
arrived  at  the  Cherokee  Strip,  where  I  was  located,  they 
had  several  lame,  or  sorefooted  cattle  which  they  were 
willing  to  dispose  of  at  a  very  reduced  price.  As  I  was 
the  only  man  on  the  ground  who  would  take  them  off 
their  hands,  I  came  into  possession  of  several  head  of 
cattle.  After  a  few  weeks  rest  and  some  surgical  atten- 
tion, they  would  again  be  in  good  condition  and  ready 
to  forward  to  the  market.  Usually  I  sent  them  to  my 
ranch  in  Kansas  where  I  kept  them  until  I  could  dispose 
of  them  to  good  advantage. 

A  few  days  after  Bill's  return,  another  herd  hap- 
pened along  and  I  did  considerable  business  with  them, 
selling  what  goods  they  needed,  and  buying  several  head 
of  injured  cattle  which  I  tended  to  in  the  customary 
manner.  It  happened  that  they  had  an  extra  man  with 
them  and  I  hired  him.  I  put  him  on  the  wagon  and  sent 
him  after  more  supplies.  I  kept  Bill  with  me  as  I  was 
determined  not  to  remain  alone  in  that  locality.  When 
the  herd  had  gone  forward  on  the  drive,  we  went. out 
to  look  after  our  own  stock,  and  found  them  as  well  as 
could  be  expected.  Shortly  after  our  return  to  camp, 
we  saw  a  horseman  coming  towards  us,  and  I  concluded 
we  were  going  to  have  some  more  company.  When  he 
rode  up,  I  invited  him  to  dismount,  as  that  was  the 
custom  of  the  country.  He  thanked  me,  but  declined, 
saying  that  he  was  in  a  hurry,  that  he  had  had  some 
trouble  with  the  Comanche  Indians,  in  which  there  was 
some  shooting  done,  that  he  would  like  to  get  a  fresh 
horse  to  push  on  his  way.  I  saw  that  he  was  pretty 
well  upholstered  in  the  matter  of  armament,  as  he  had 
two  six-shooters  in  his  belt  and  a  Winchester  in  his  scab- 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  117 

bard,  and  looked,  as  though  he  would  be  able  to  protect 
himself.  I  asked  him  no  questions  as  the  condition  of 
his  horse  told  the  story  as  plainly  as  any  words  he  might 
use.  The  spur  marks  on  the  pony's  sides  showed  that 
his  vitality  was  about  expended  and  that  he  would  not 
be  able  to  go  much  farther.  When  he  asked  if  I  could 
supply  him  with  a  new  mount,  I  told  him  I  could  furnish 
him  one.  I  asked  Bill  to  change  his  saddle  for  him,  and 
gave  him  some  directions  to  guide  him  towards  a  cow 
ranch.  He  proposed  leaving  his  horse  with  me  as  a 
guaranty  that  he  wrould  return  mine  to  me.  I  told  him 
that  was  out  of  the  question,  that  if  the  Comanches 
came  along  and  found  his  horse  with  me  they  would 
conclude  that  I  had  hidden  him  somewhere,  which  would 
mean  trouble  for  me,  a  thing  I  did  not  want  just  then, 
especially  with  the  Indians.  I  told  him  to  take  his  pony 
along  with  him  and  if  he  could  not  keep  up  with  the 
fresh  one,  to  turn  him  loose  upon  the  prairie  and  some 
cow-puncher  would  take  him  in  and  care  for  him  until 
called  for.  He  put  a  hackamaw  on  his  jaded  steed, 
mounted  his  fresh  pony  and  made  ready  to  start.  I  told 
him  not  to  spare  the  quirt,  as  the  horse  could  stand  a 
good  dash,  and  that  he  would  be  at  the  ranch  in  a  little 
over  an  hour  if  he  rode  steadily.  He  was  off  in  the 
direction  I  gave  him,  and  Bill  and  I  set  in  to  make  a 
checker  board  to  while  away  our  idle  hours.  Something 
shortly  afterward  attracted  our  attention,  and  on  looking 
up  we  beheld  three  Comanche  Indians  riding  towards 
our  tent,  with  their  rifles  across  their  saddles,  which 
meant  business.  I  spoke  to  Bill  and  he  stepped  into  the 
tent  and  buckled  on  a  pair  af  six-shooters.  I  happened 
to  have  my  Winchester  near  at  hand.  When  they  rode 
up  close  enough  for  us  to  see  plainly  what  they  were 
doing,  they  stopped  and  began  to  make  signs.  I  could 
not  understand  the  Comanche  sign  language,  so  they 
had  to  resort  to  some  other  means  of  communication. 
They  drew  closer  and  one  of  them  said  *  How, '  the  second 
one  grunted  something  and  the  third  remained  silent. 


118  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

Bill  and  1  went  on  making  our  checker  board  apparently 
oblivious  of  their  presence,  but  all  the  while  I  kept  my 
eye  on  the  rifle  with  an  occasional  glance  out  of  the 
corner  of  my  eye  at  the  Indians.  Finally  one  of  them 
spoke  in  broken  English  and  asked  if  a  white  man  had 
been  there.  I  told  them  a  white  man  had  stopped  for 
a  short  time,  but  went  north,  and  I  pointed  out  the  trail. 
After  they  had  sat  in  silence  for  some  time,  they  wheeled 
their  ponies  around  and  galloped  off.  It  would  not  take 
much  of  a  genius  to  see  that  their  visit  was  not  a  friendly 
one,  and  that  they  were  looking  for  trouble,  and  particu- 
larly wanted  to  see  a  certain  white  man  that  had  passed 
that  way  shortly  before.  If  they  could  not  find  the 
object  of  their  desires,  they  would  likely  make  some 
trouble  for  some  innocent  party.  As  they  saw  that  Bill 
and  I  were  pretty  well  furnished  with  fire  arms,  they 
thought  it  better  to  pursue  the  object  of  the  search.  I 
knew  that,  by  this  time,  the  pursued  was  beyond  the 
reach  of  the  pursuers  and  was  likely  safe  among  the 
cowboys  of  some  neighboring  ranch,  where  the  Indian 
would  not  follow  him.  The  Indian  had  a  wholesome 
respect  for  cow-ranches  and  did  not  care  to  go  prowling 
around  that  locality,  for  at  that  particular  time  the 
cowman  had  lost  all  respect  for  the  Indian's  feelings. 
As  we  did  not  know  at  what  time  they  would  return,  if 
they  ever  did,  nor  did  we  know  what  humor  they  would  be 
in,  though  we  could  give  a  shrewd  guess,  Bill  and  I 
thought  it  better  to  make  what  efforts  were  necessary 
to  protect  ourselves  and  our  stock  in  the  event  of  their 
returning  with  designs  upon  us,  or  our  cattle.  We  took 
our  blankets  and  guns  and  spent  the  night  on  the  prairie 
sear  our  horses.  During  the  vigil  we  were  keeping  we 
heard  some  horsemen  passing  and  concluded  the  Indians 
were  returning  from  their  white-man  hunt. 

Next  forenoon  a  line  rider  came  over  to  see  us, 
bringing  with  him  the  horse  we  had  loaned  the  visitor 
who  was  in  such  a  hurry..  He  said  that  he  had  seen 
nothing  of  the  Indians  at  the  ranch.  He  said  that  the 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  110 

fugitive  horseman  had  received  a  new  mount  at  his  ranch 
and  had  gone  on  his  way,  but  did  not  fail  to  send  back 
his  compliments  saying  that  he  was  grateful  for  the 
kindness  we  had  shown  him  and  hoped  some  day  to  be 
able  to  repay  it. 

That  afternoon,  the  herd,  from  which  the  fugitive 
above  mentioned  had  taken  his  departure,  arrived  in 
our  neighborhood,  and  from  the  boys  of  the  outfit  I 
learned  the  particulars  of  the  whole  occurance.  The 
foreman  gave  me  all  the  information  in  the  case,  and 
I  shall  detail  it  here.  He  said  that  the  Indians  had  met 
them  over  in  the  Comanche  country  and  had  made  their 
usual  demand  for  "Wohaw."  As  he  had  given  one 
steer  already  down  in  the  Red  River  district,  he  did 
not  feel  obliged  to  yield  to  their  demands  for  a  second 
contribution.  In  order  to  get  rid  of  them,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  make  a  peace-offering  he  said  he  would  let 
them  have  another.  That  did  not  satisfy  the  Indians  and 
they  started  for  the  herd  to  cut  out  what  they  wanted. 
That  was  the  thing  that  brought  matters  to  a  focus. 
They  might  have  known  that  their  presence  in  the  herd 
would  cause  a  stampede.  When  they  persisted  in  doing 
so  in  spite  of  the  warning  to  desist,  then  came  the  signal 
for  the  disturbance  which  followed. 

The  first  steer  they  cut  out  from  the  herd  was  met 
and  driven  back  by  a  young  fellow  by  the  name  of 
McRay.  An  Indian  tried  to  prevent  his  driving  the  steer 
back  to  the  herd.  That  spelled  disaster  for  the  Indian, 
for  the  young  fellow  drew  his  forty-five  and  shot  the 
Indian  off  his  pony.  All  was  confusion  for  a  brief  space, 
but  no  more  shooting  took  place.  The  Indians  picked 
up  their  wounded  comrade  and  bore  him  away  as  fast 
as  they  could,  and  then  the  herd  moved  on.  McRay, 
acting  on  the  advice  of  the  foreman,  sought  safety  in 
flight  towards  the  north.  That  was  the  fugitive  that 
came  to  my  tent  in  search  of  a  fresh  pony.  If  he  had 
remained  with  the  herd,  serious  trouble  would  have 
resulted,  and  if  they  had  caught  him  in  his  flight,  he 


120  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

would  likely  have  been  scalped,  if  not  subjected  to  other 
barbarities. 

I  am  not  going  to  say  anything  about  the  merits  of 
the  case  as  it  stood,  but  will  say  that  if  the  same  con- 
ditions existed  today,  the  same  would  occur  again. 

As  on  the  arrival  of  the  former  herds,  we  made 
another  bargain  for  some  of  the  foot-sore  cattle,  and  after 
doctoring  them  to  the  best  of  our  ability,  we  turned 
them  in  with  the  rest  of  our  stock. 

We  did  considerable  business  with  the  foreman  of  the 
outfit.  After  getting  what  goods  he  wanted,  he  moved 
onward  with  his  herd. 

When  they  had  gone,  I  saddled  Old  Jimmie  and  took 
a  ride  down  to  where  our  stock  was  feeding  along  the 
creek,  to  look  them  over  and  see  if  they  needed  any 
attention.  They  seemed  in  good  condition,  so  I  rode  on, 
more  for  pastime  than  with  any  object  in  view.  When 
I  had  passed  a  mile  or  so  beyond  where  our  herd  was 
grazing  peacefully,  I  saw  something  that  I  could  not 
account  for,  and  proceeded  to  make  an  investigation. 
As  I  drew  nearer  to  the  object  of  my  curiosity  I  found 
an  Indian  sitting  on  the  bank  of  the  creek.  I  was 
rather  surprised  to  see  that  he  had  no  pony  in  sight,  nor 
were  there  any  other  Indians  in  view.  I  approached 
him  with  the  purpose  of  making  a  closer  scruitiny  of 
this  lone  denizen  of  the  plains.  His  wardrobe  consisted 
of  a  breech-clout,  a  pair  of  moccasins,  and  three  feathers 
in  his  hair.  I  rode  up  to  him  and  saluted  him  with 
the  customary  Indian  "How."  He  made  no  reply,  did 
not  give  even  a  grunt  of  recognition.  I  studied  him 
carefully  for  awhile.  I  noted  that  his  hair  wras  well 
braided  and  hung  down  his  back,  and  was  tipped  with 
strips  of  Beaver  fur.  I  rode  on  a  short  distance,  and 
returned  again  to  take  another  look  at  him.  I  addressed 
him  as  before,  with  the  same  result.  He  set  me  thinking 
very  seriously  as  he  had  no  fire-arms  and  no  pony.  I 
thought  that,  perhaps,  he  might  be  one  of  the  three 
that  had  visited  me  the  day  they  chased  the  cowboy. 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  121 

When  I  returned  to  camp  I  found  a  visitor,  a  line- 
rider.  I  explained  to  him  and  Bill  what  I  had  seen, 
and  the  line-rider  volunteered  the  explanation  that  the 
Indian  was  a  runner,  or  what  one  would  call  a  mail- 
carrier  and  was  likely  carrying  some  message  to  the 
Caddos,  perhaps,  an  invitation  to  a  green  corn  dance, 
or  some  other  festivity.  His  appearance  there  had  no 
further  significance,  so  I  let  the  matter  drop.  In  the 
meantime,  Bill  was  busying  himself  cooking  some  venison 
the  cowboy  had  killed,  getting  ready  for  our  next  repast, 
which  was  about  due.  While  waiting  for  Bill  to  put 
the  finishing  touches  on  his  work  of  art,  we  amused 
ourselves  with  a  game  of  checkers.  When  luncheon  was 
ready  we  abandoned  the  checker  board  with  alacrity 
and  threw  ourselves  very  earnestly  into  the  work  of 
demolishing  what  Bill  had  taken  so  much  care  to  prepare. 

A  strong  friendship  had  sprung  up  between  Bill  and 
Nero.  It  was  very  much  like  the  story  of  Mary  and  her 
little  lamb,  wherever  Bill  went,  there  was  Nero  at  his 
heels.  Such  devotion  was  very  touching,  but  in  Bill's 
case  it  was  almost  too  touching  for  it  nearly  cost  him  his 
life.  As  my  partner  was  not  much  given  to  riding  horse- 
back, any  more  than  he  could  help,  he  used  to  divert  him- 
self by  taking  a  stroll  over  the  prairie,  and  of  course,  the 
dog  was  at  his  heels.  It  amused  Bill  to  see  the  dog 
chasing  jack  rabbits,  or  diving  at  prairie  dogs,but  both 
species  seemed  to  have  an  uncanny  way  of  avoiding  his 
onslaughts.  He  never  caught  any  of  them.  One  day  as 
he  was  tearing  around  after  a  rabbit,  a  herd  of  wild 
cattle  came  over  the  brow  of  the  hill.  The  dog  was 
heading  for  them  straight  as  an  arrow;  barking  and 
cavorting  in  a  fashion  wonderful  to  see.  Any  man  who 
has  had  any  experience  with  wild  cattle  will  know  what 
danger  my  friend  and  partner  encountered  at  that  point. 
Wild  cattle  are  curious,  and  when  they  see  a  man  afoot, 
they  begin  to  investigate  immediately,  and  therein  lies 
the  danger.  If  anything  were  to  excite  them,  at  the 
moment  they  would  trample  him  to  death.  That  was 


122  THE  INDIANS1  LAST  FIGHT 

just  about  what  was  due  to  happen  to  Bill  as  the  dog 
Iiad  excited  them  and  they  were  coming  toward  the 
man  afoot.  The  idea  of  self-preservation  struck  Nero 
about  the  same  time  as  the  cattle  began  to  move  toward 
Bill,  and  he  rushed  to  his  master  to  save  him.  The 
cowboys  added  to  the  pandemonium  already  turned  loose, 
by  trying  to  shoot  Nero.  I  always  kept  a  horse  saddled 
at  the  camp  for  an  emergency,  and  when  I  heard  the 
commotion,  I  mounted  and  set  out  at  full  gallop  to  the 
scene  of  action.  I  was  just  in  time,  for  there  was  Bill 
hitting  only  the  high  places  in  his  flight  for  safety.  I 
met  him  and  he  needed  no  invitation  to  mount  behind  me, 
but  caught  the  horn  of  the  saddle  and  swung  himself 
up  with  alacrity  and  away  we  went  at  top  speed.  The 
danger  was  not  entirely  passed,  for  there  right  behind  us 
was  Nero,  the  cause  of  a  great  part  of  the  trouble.  Bill 
pulled  his  gun  and  shot  the  dog.  That  itself  seemed 
to  check  the  herd,  but  we  had  a  narrow  escape.  One 
stumble  of  the  horse,  and  wre  would  both  have  been 
trampled  into  such  small  pieces  that  there  would  be  left 
only  a  damp  spot  on  the  ground  where  we  had  fallen. 
However,  we  were  safe  and  that  was  the  chief  thing 
for  us.  We  saddled  our  ponies  and  went  to  help  the 
cowboys  round  up  the  herd  that  had  become  scattered 
through  the  playful  antics  of  Nero.  As  it  was  time  to 
eat  when  we  had  got  the  cattle  back  on  the  trail  and 
quieted  down,  we  joined  the  cowmen  in  their  meal. 
There  w^as  considerable  joking  and  laughing  over  our 
predicament,  but  they  said  not  one  word  about  tlhe 
danger  we  encountered  in  our  flight  before  the  stampede. 

As  this  was  an  opportunity  for  us  to  do  business  again, 
we  took  advantage  of  it.  Bill  bought  some  of  the  foot- 
sore stock,  and  I  sold  them  provisions  to  kist  them  until 
they  could  find  a  more  convenient  market. 

When  the  outfit  had  gone  northwards,  things  began 
to  assume  the  monotonous  routine  of  dull  times.  We 
did  the  best  we  could  to  entertain  ourselves  with  checkers 
and  talking  over  prospects,  but  it  was  not  very  exciting 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  123 

at  best.  From  a  business  point  of  view  it  seemed  a 
success,  and  we  thought  it  advisable  to  establish  our- 
selves in  a  dugout  and  make  a  lengthy  stay  of  it.  The 
prospects  were  good,  the  success  of  the  past  argued  well 
for  the  future,  but  "The  best  laid  plans  of  mice  and 
men  gang  aft  aglee." 

Nexjt  morning  I  rode  down  to  take  a  look  at  our 
growing  herd  and  had  not  gone  very  far  when  I  found 
that  one  of  my  cattle  'had  been  killed.  I  dismounted  to 
examine  the  carcass  more  closely  and  found  evidence 
that  the  cow  had  been  killed  by  some  wild  animal.  I 
could  not  say  what  animal  had  killed  her  as  the  manner 
of  attack  was  entirely  different  from  any  I  have  ever 
seen.  It  was  not  a  gray  wolf,  as  I  was  familiar  with 
their  mode  of  destruction.  I  examined  the  ground  and 
found  the  foot-prints  of  two  animals,  one  large  and  one 
small.  I  followed  their  trail  for  some  distance  and 
found  where  they  had  been  rolling  in  the  sand  after 
their  feast.  I  endeavored  to  follow  it  farther,  but  it  was 
scoon  lost  in  the  long  buffalo  grass,  and  I  had  to  give 
up  the  task. 

I  returned  to  camp  and  reported  the  matter  to  my 
partner,  and  he  said  that  he  would  fix  things  for  them. 
He  concluded  that  if  he  put  strychnine  in  the  carcass 
they  had  already  killed,  they  would  come  again,  and  ;ii 
that  way  he  would  rid  us  of  the  intruders.  We  applied 
the  strychnine  in  the  most  approved  fashion  laid  down 
by  old  hunters  and  trappers,  but  it  was  in  vain.  Next 
night  they  returned  and  killed  another  steer,  but  did 
not  go  near  the  one  they  had  killed  before.  As  we 
were  looking  over  the  result  of  the  night's  work,  a  line- 
rider  came  by,  and  we  explained  the  situation  to  him. 
He  said  the  mischief  had  been  wrought  by  a  cougar,  or 
Mexican  lion,  and  that  it  was  useless  to  try  to  poison 
him  as  he  would  not  eat  anything  in  the  nature  of  flesh 
except  what  had  been  freshly  killed  by  himself.  Further- 
more, he  said,  they  had  been  attracted  by  our  cattle 
because,  being  footsore,  they  could  not  put  up  a  fight  to 


124  THE  INDIAN'S'  LAST  FIGHT 

defend  themselves,  and  thus  fell  an  easy  prey  to  the 
marauders.  We  saw  at  once  that  there  was  only  one 
way  out  of  the  difficulty  and  that  was  to  shoot  the  lions, 
as  they  seemed  to  wary  to  be  taken  by  poison.  If  we 
did  not  take  that  course,  we  would  soon  be  out  of  cattle. 
With  that  end  in  view  we  moved  them  up  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  our  tent.  We  made  a  temporary  corral  for 
them,  and  awaited  an  opportunity  to  send  a  bullet  into 
the  expected  visitor.  He  came  as  usual,  but  we  did  not 
get  a  shot  at  him,  as  he  did  not  give  us  a  chance.  I 
wish  to  say  that  in  all  my  experience  I  have  never  met, 
in  Canada  or  in  the  West,  another  animal  so  cowardly 
and  treacherous  as  the  Mexican  lion.  I  have  known 
them  to  kill  an  animal  not  more  than  four  rods  from 
where  I  was  sitting,  and  before  I  could  reach  the  corral, 
he  would  be  out  of  sight.  I  could  not  shoot  towards 
the  corral  for  fear  of  killing  or  crippling  some  of  the 
stock.  I  have  known  them  to  kill  a  two-year-old  steer, 
and  by  the  time  I  could  get  there  the  cougar  was  gone, 
but  the  attack  was  so  swift  and  sure  that  the  poor  beast 
would  be  still  standing  writh  his  entrails  hanging  on  the 
ground.  That  gives  some  idea  of  how  short  a  time  it 
takes  a  cougar  to  kill  a  cow.  In  spite  of  all  his  great 
strength,  he  is  a  great  coward,  as  he  will  not  face  a  man. 
I  tried  to  rid  myself  of  the  pest  that  was  thinning  out 
my  herd,  and  devoted  a  good  deal  of  time  in  trying  to 
find  his  den,  to  get  a  shot  at  him,  but  my  efforts  were 
to  no  purpose.  I  had  to  do  the  best  I  could,  watch  and 
wait,  in  the  hope  of  success. 

While  engaged  in  the  hunt  for  the  cougar  one  after- 
noon, I  saw,  at'  some  distance,  a  horse  grazing  along  the 
creek.  He  had  a  saddle  and  bridle  on  him,  but  no  rider. 
I  thought  he  had  run  away  from  some  outfit,  and  went 
down  to  where  he  was  to  secure  him  and  bring  him  to 
iny  tent,  so  that  the  owner  could  call  for  him  when  he 
had  time.  Upon  reaching  the  place  where  the  pony  was 
grazing,  I  saw  a  strange  sight.  There  sat  an  Indian  on 
a  knoll,  wearing  a  Navajoe  blanket,  ear-rings  that  hung 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  125 

down  Jike  small  sleigh  bells,  his  hair  plaited  and  hanging 
down  his  back,  his  head  decorated  with  eagle  feathers, 
all  of  which  made  me  think  I  had  met  a  very  distinguished 
gentleman.  As  a  neighbor  I  greeted  him  with  the  cus- 
tomary, "How."  To  my  greeting  he  made  no  sign  of 
recognition,  did  not  even  move  a  muscle.  I  rode  past 
him  for  some  distance  and  then  returned  on  the  opposite 
side  of  him,  and  then  I  discovered  the  cause  of  his  sullen 
dignity.  He  had  fastened  to  his  blanket  a  small-sized 
pewter  plate  polished  as  bright  as  a  new  dollar  fresh 
from  the  mint,  and  around  the  rim  of  it  was  inscribed 
the  letters  of  the  alphabet.  I  saw  that  he  had  left  his 
rifle  in  the  scabbard  of  his  saddle,  and  if  he  made  any 
move  of  a  warlike  nature,  I  could  do  a  lot  of  business 
before  he  could  get  organized  for  battle.  This  condition 
made  me  bolder  and  encouraged  me  to  make  a  more 
critical  inspection  of  his  wardrobe  than  I  would  have  done 
if  he  had  his  Winchester  near  at  hand.  He  wore  a  pair 
of  moccasins  highly  ornamented  with  beads  of  all  colors. 
Whether  he  had  any  under  garments  I  was  not  in  position 
to  know,  but  he  looked  to  be  clothed  in  the  highest 
degree  of  cool,  calm,  unruffled  dignity.  As  I  had  seen  no 
cartridge  belt  on  the  saddle,  I  was  satisfied  that  he  wore 
one  around  his  waist,  with  the  customary  pair  of  six- 
shooters  for  ornaments  and  use.  As  he  remained  stolid 
in  his  attitude  towards  me,  I  gave  up  any  hope  of  finding 
out  anything  about  him,  and  rode  home.  T  related  my 
experience  to  Bill,  laughing  over  the  dignity  displayed 
by  the  Indian,  based  on  the  posession  of  a  pewter  breast- 
plate that  once  belonged  to  some  white  child,  and  which 
he  had  found  on  his  meanderings  over  the  plains. 

After  a  quarter  of  a  century  has  elapsed,  and  taking 
a  retrospective  view  of  the  situation  at  that  lime,  I  can 
see  what  a  trifle  it  would  have  taken  to  send  one  of 
us,  if  not  both,  over  the  Great  Divide  to  the  Happy 
Hunting  Grounds. 

Bill  had  been  out  in  another  direction  in  search 
of  the  cougar,  but  met  with  as  little  success  as  I  had. 


126  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

It  became  a  question  of  sitting  up  nights  guarding  the 
herd,  with  the  hope  of  being  able  to  get  a  shot  at  the 
cause  of  our  misfortunes,  but  it  was  in  vain.  Every 
morning  brought  us  evidence  of  further  devastation 
wrought  by  the  bloodthirsty  brute.  Things  came  to  such 
a  pass  that  we  had  to  choose  between  losing  the  whole 
herd,  or  moving  to  Kansas,  and  we  chose  the  latter. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
Returning  to  Kansas ;  A  Settler ;  A  Phenomenon,  etc. 

Reluctantly  we  folded  our  tent  and  started  off  in 
the  direction  of  the  Sun-flower  State,  where  our  ranch 
was  located.  Business  had  been  good  and  we  were  loath 
to  leave  such  a  good  opportunity  for  increasing  our 
profits,  but  the  unseen  enemy  made  further  delay  im- 
possible. Our  outfit  on  the  trail  did  not  present  a  very 
inviting  appearance,  but  there  was  something  substantial 
about  it  that  cheered  us  considerable.  We  had  increased 
our  holdings  during  our  sojourn  in  the  Territory,  and 
were  now  returning  with  the  fruits  o*  our  venture. 
Personally  we  were  not  much  to  look  at,  as  we  had  not 
had  a  shave  in  several  months,  but  that  fact  did  not 
interfere  with  the  happiness  we  felt  at  the  prospect  of 
seeing  the  old  homestead  once  more.  On  the  first  night 
of  our  advance  we  camped  in  the  brakes  of  the  Cimmaron 
river.  We  were  fortunate  in  killing  a  deer,  which  pro- 
vided us  with  a  change  of  meat.  It  was  the  last  wild 
game  we  expected  to  obtain,  as  the  antelope  and  other 
wild  game  had  been  shot  at  so  much  that  they  had 
become  gun-shy,  and  it  was  impossible  to  get  within  any 
close  proximity  to  them  to  obtain  a  shot  at  one  of  them. 
The  antelope  in  particular  we  did  not  expect  to  see,  as 
that  animal  does  not  frequent  the  low  lands,  and  the  only 
time  he  is  found  there  is  when  he  is  on  the  way  to  get 
water.  Even  then  they  seem  to  have  on  one  guard  at 
all  times,  so  that  at  the  sight  of  a  man  they  are  off  like 
a  shot  and  soon  out  of  sight.  Antelopes  and  wild  horses 
are  very  much  alike  in  their  habits,  as  neither  will  enter 
a  creek  or  a  canyon  except  for  water  or  shelter. 

N'ext  morning  found  us  up  and  away.  As  the 
traveling  was  down  grade,  we  got  along  nicely.  We 


128  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

were  very  much  pleased  on  reaching  the  river  to  find 
that  the  sand  was  packed  down  owing  to  the  numbers 
of  cattle  that  had  forded  the  stream  during  the  preceding 
weeks,  and  we  were  able  to  cross  without  much  difficulty. 
Having  crossed  the  stream  we  pulled  our  outfit  into 
Clem's  ranch,  where  we  sold  the  greater  part  of  our 
supplies  for  a  fair  price.  With  a  lighter  burden,  we  set 
out  on  our  way  again,  leaving  the  supply  trail,  and 
moved  in  a  north-westerly  direction  toward  Meade  Co., 
Kansas.  Frequently  we  were  compelled  to  cross  what  is 
called  a  sand-draw,  but  we  managed  to  do  this  without 
much  trouble,  as  by  fastening  our  lariat  ropes  to  the  end 
of  the  wagon  tongue  and  fixing  the  other  end  to  the 
horn  of  the  saddle  we  could  assist  the  team  in  pulling 
through  the  canyon  and  reach  the  firm  footing  on  the 
other  side.  Our  route  lay  through  the  section  about 
midway  the  Beverly  cow-ranch  on  the  South  Sand  Creek, 
and  the  place  where  Ashland,  the  county  seat  of  Clarke 
County  now  stands.  We  crossed  several  small  trails,  but 
as  they  were  running  in  another  direction  they  could  not 
be  of  any  assistance  to  us.  That  evening  we  made  a  dry 
camp,  but  expected  early  next  day  to  reach  the  head 
waters  of  Little  Sand  creek,  or  as  it  was  afterwards 
called,  Johns  Creek,  in  time  to  water  our  stock.  We 
went  through  the  usual  procedure  of  picketing  the  horses 
we  were  using,  and  hobbling  the  loose  ones,  and  getting 
the  cattle  in  shape  for  the  night. 

On  my  tour  around  the  herd  I  found  that  there  was  a 
dug-out  in  the  neighborhood.  I  went  on  a  visit  of  inspec- 
tion to  see  if  there  was  any  one  there,  for  there  seemed 
to  be  some  signs  of  improvement  around  it.  I  was 
agreeably  surprised  to  find  a  solitary  man  walking  around 
the  dug-out,  with  his  hands  behind  his  back  and  his  head 
bent  as  though  deep  in  meditation.  I  decided  to  call  on 
him  and  find  out  something  about  the  topography  of  the 
country,  also  the  distance  to  Crooked  Creek,  Kansas.  I 
introduced  myself  and  told  him  the  purpose  of  my  visit. 
Once  the  ice  was  broken,  the  conversation  took  several 


•     OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  129 

turns.  From  his  remarks  I  gleaned  that  he  had  not  been 
there  very  long,  and  was  likewise  anxious  to  sell  out, 
in  fact,  he  even  seemed  to  insist  that  I  should  buy  him 
out.  I  told  him  I  was  sorry  that  I  could  not  take  his 
offer,  as  I  had  some  property  of  my  own  in  Meade  County 
and  felt  that  was  all  the  Kansas  real  estate  I  cared  to 
handle  just  then. 

During  my  interview  I  cast  my  eyes  around  the  place 
to  get  a  general  view  of  my  surroundings.  I  noted  that 
he  had  placed  four  forks  in  the  ground  and  roofed  them 
over  with  hay  and  brush,  the  whole  forming  a  sort  of 
arbor  to  protect  him  from  the  sun  and  rain.  About  three 
feet  from  the  ground  he  had  fixed  a  scaffold  for  a  bed. 
I  was  nonplussed  at  what  I  saw,  and  ventured  to  inquire 
the  reason  of  the  arbor-like  structure.  He  replied  that  he 
was  unable  to  sleep  in  the  dug-out,  for  he  had  tried  to 
do  so,  but  found  that  it  was  impossible,  owing  to  the 
number  of  tarantulas  and  centipedes  that  infested  the 
place.  The  arbor  was  a  partial  solution  of  the  difficulty, 
but  did  not  quite  meet  all  the  demands  of  the  situation. 
The  fleas  he  could  not  escape,  they  were  in  his  bedding, 
and  he  was  unable  to  discover  a  means  of  putting  them 
to  flight.  What  he  could  not  avoid,  he  had  to  endure. 
I  could  see  at  a  glance  that  his  opinion  of  farming  in 
Western  Kansas  was  not  very  elevated.  He  was  deter- 
mined to  sell  out  at  the  first  opportunity  that  presented 
itself.  As  I  had  to  return  to  camp  to  make  arrangements 
for  standing  night  guard  over  the  herd  to  prevent  their 
wandering  off,  I  bade  my  new-found  acquaintance  fare- 
well, wishing  him  all  manner  of  good  fortune  in  his  new 
home.  When  I  reached  our  outfit,  I  found  that  supper 
was  ready,  and  we  were  ready  for  it.  We  attended  to 
the  duty  of  providing  for  the  wants  of  the  inner  man 
with  considerable  alacrity,  though  our  manner  of  doing 
so  might  have  lacked  some  of  the  etiquette  required 
by  the  rules  and  regulations  of  refined  society.  After  a 
chat  over  things  in  general  and  prospects  in  particular, 
the  boys  rolled  up  in  their  blankets  for  the  night,  and 


130  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

I  went  on  my  solitary  errand  of  looking  after  the  herd. 
The  stillness  of  the  night  was  unbroken  save  by  the 
hooting  of  an  owl  in  the  neighboring  canyon,  or  the 
barking  of  a  coyote  on  a  side  hill.  Even  they  would 
cease  their  clamor  for  a  time  and  then  the  stillness  of 
the  night  was  appaling.  I  sat  on  my  pony  in  meditation 
evolving  thoughts  and  considerations  induced  by  the  calm 
of  the  surroundings  in  which  I  found  myself.  My  reflec- 
tions were  interrupted  by  the  musical  notes  of  the  lone 
settler,  borne  over  the  prairie  on  the  wings  of  the  night. 
He  had  a  voice  that  was  rich  and  melodious,  though  art 
had  never  tried  to  improve  the  natural  gift.  The  first 
sweet  tones  that  fell  upon  my  ear  were  the  strains  of  an 
old  familiar  strain  I  used  to  hear  back  home  in  Canada, 
and  they  never  seemed  sweeter  than  they  did  then.  I 
listened  entranced.  A  flood  of  memories  came  rushing 
from  some  long  forgotten  corner  of  my  mind,  and  I  sat 
entranced.  I  was  in  hopes  that  he  would  repeat  the  son£ 
again,  but  my  hopes  were  not  realized.  Instead,  he 
changed  off  into  some  old-time  granger  rhyme  that  had 
more  philosophy  than  music  in  it.  It  might  well  be  en- 
titled "The  Lament  of  a  Kansas  Granger."  I  was  glad 
when  he  was  through  it.  Then  he  came  back  with  one 
old  and  ever  new,  ever  welcome  and  ever  sweet,  the  song 
called  "Home  Sweet  Home."  I  do  not  believe  that  the 
effect  produced  by  Jenny  Lind,  when  she  first  rendered 
it  could  have  been  as  great  as  that  produced  in  my  heart 
at  that  moment.  The  days  of  boyhood  were  returned 
again.  I  saw  the  old  log  house  where  I  was  born,  and 
the  surrounding  forest.  I  saw  my  playmates  on  the 
green  and  took  part  once  more  in  their  merry  games. 
Memories  came  rushing  so  fast  that  I  could  not  analyze 
them  in  their  kaleidoscopic  passage  through  my  brain. 
Half  consciously  I  wiped  away  a  tear  that  began  to 
trickle  down  my  cheek.  The  music  ceased  and  I  sat  as 
one  dazed;  only  to  be  rudely  awakened  by  the  resump- 
tion of  the  barking  of  the  coyote  near  at  hand.  I  looked 
across  to  where  the  settler  had  his  home.  The  embers  of 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  131 

his  fire  were  burning  low.  He  must  have  retired  to  his 
arbor  for  a  rest.  I  could  not  then  imagine  why  he  had 
chosen  that  hour  of  the  night  to  give  vent  to  his  feelings 
in  the  manner  mentioned.  It  may  have  been  out  of  the 
bitterness  of  a  discouraged  heart  that  he  poured  forth 
his  soul  in  such  harmony,  but  whatever  it  was,  I  must 
say  that  he  had  a  very  attentive  listener  in  one  lone  horse- 
man standing  guard  over  a  herd  of  weary  cattle. 

The  hours  of  the  night  passed  slowly.  The  silence  of 
the  tomb  seemed  to  enfold  everything  in  its  mantel.  I 
made  my  rounds  to  see  that  things  were  in  proper  con- 
dition, and  then  returned  to  camp  to  arouse  my  partner, 
Bill,  to  take  up  the  burden  of  guarding  the  herd  while  I 
obtained  some  much  needed  sleep.  It  seemed  to  me  that 
I  had  hardly  lain  down  when  I  heard  the  cook  calling 
to  all  hands,  ' '  Chuckaway, "  which,  in  the  language  of 
the  civilized  nations,  means  breakfast  is  ready.  I  awoke 
with  the  call,  and  found  the  sun  streaming  into  my  face. 
In  the  meantime  Bill  had  come  in  from  his  tour  of  in- 
spection, leaving  the  cattle  grazing  quietly.  It  did  not 
take  me  long  to  arrange  my  toilet,  a  ceremony  that  the 
cowpuncher  does  not  usually  give  much  attention  to,  and 
I  was  soon  in  the  midst  of  the  bustle  of  getting  my  share 
of  provender  for  the  morning  meal.  We  simply  took  the 
first  articles  of  tableware  that  we  happened  to  find  con- 
venient, seized  upon  the  proper  allowance  of  food,  and 
then  we  sat  down  on  the  prairie  and  gave  our  undivided 
attention  to  the  work  at  hand.  As  it  was  agreeable  work, 
we  devoted  a  lot  of  energy  to  it,  and  accomplished  the 
task  in  a  very  brief  time.  This  done,  we  made  arrange- 
ments to  set  out  again.  We  rounded  up  the  stock  that 
had  wandered  off  while  grazing,  got  the  ponies  together, 
loaded  the  wagon  and  were  on  our  way  once  more. 

Having  given  the  boys  the  direction  to  follow,  I  set 
out  to  pay  a  farewell  visit  to  the  singer  of  the  night, 
saying  that  I  would  overtake  them  before  they  had  pro- 
ceeded very  far. 

I  reached  his  dug-out  and  found  him  up  and  around. 


132  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

After  the  usual  salutations,  I  offered  my  thanks  for  the 
pleasure  he  had  afforded  me  during  the  preceding  night. 
He  thanked  me  for  the  compliment,  and  said  that  the 
pleasure  was  mutual.    He  said  it  was  a  boon  to  him  to 
have  some  one  call  on  him,  as  his  nearest  neighbor  was 
seven  miles  distant.     Not  only  that,  but  there  were  dif- 
ficulties about  his  neighbor  coming  to  visit  him  as  he  had 
only  a  team  of  oxen  to  travel  with,  and  they  were  not 
very  well  broken  yet,  and  travel  under  such  conditions 
was  not  very  inviting.     I  saw  from  the  tone  of  his  re- 
marks that  he  was  disconsolate,  or  rather  discouraged  by 
his  present  condition  in  life,  and  I  ventured  to  repeat  the 
advice  given  by  Horace  Greely  to  young  men,  namely, 
"to  go  West  and  grow  up  with  the  country."  "Oh,"  said 
he,  "that  is  all  bosh.    That  man,  Horace  Greeley  did  not 
know  the  first  '  jump  in  the  road'  of  what  he  was  talking 
about.    When  he  came  through  this  country,  he  was  rid- 
ing in  a  Pullman  car,  with  lackeys  and  servants  to  wait 
upon  him.    He  knew  absolutely  nothing  of  the  real  con- 
dition of  this  country  and  I  am  willing  to  bet  that  he 
would  not  take  a  thousand  dollars  and  sleep  one  night 
in  that  dug-out  of  mine.    He  was  a  very  smart  man,  well 
versed  in  politics,  living  in  New  York  where  he  could 
sit  in  his  parlor  and  look  into  his  neighbor's  house  and 
see  what  the  family  had  to  eat.     Such  advice  is  sound 
enough  in  theory  when  delivered  through  the  columns 
of  the  New  York  Tribune,  or  in  the  heat  of  some  political 
campaign,  to  an  audience  composed  of  tenderfeet,  but 
the    same    idea   promulgated   whilst   leaning    on    a    hoe 
handle,  between  two  rows  of  sorghum  in  Western  Kan- 
sas, would  have  a  different  effect.     Horace  Greeley  was 
a  very  good  citizen,  but  knew  comparatively  nothing  of 
the  trials  and  tribulations,  privations  and  hardships,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  lives  it  cost  to  move  the  boundary 
line  of  civilization  one  step  farther  West."    Such  were 
the  sentiments  of  my  philosophical  friend,  and  they  con- 
tained more  truth  than  poetry.     By  this  time  the  herd 
was  almost  out  of  sight,  and  I  was  forced  to  bid  him 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  133 

good-bye,  requesting  him,  at  the  same  time,  that  if  he 
were  ever  over  in  Meade  County,  to  call  on  me,  for  there 
would  be  a  welcome  for  him  at  all  times  and  that  he 
would  always  find  the  latch  on  the  outside,  that  meant 
for  him  to  walk  right  in  and  make  himself  at  home.  I 
left  him,  and  as  I  was  topping  the  crest  of  the  hill  1 
looked  back  and  saw  him  sitting  on  the  top  of  his  dug- 
out, waving  farewell. 

We  did  not  delay  for  dinner,  as  we  wanted  to  reach 
Little  Sand  Creek,  where  there  was  plenty  of  water.  As 
this  was  to  be  our  last  night  out,  I  can  assure  you  that 
we  did  not  lose  any  time  along  the  way.  We  reached 
our  camping  ground  about  three  in  the  afternoon.  As 
we  were  only  about  eight  miles  from  the  home  ranch,  we 
turned  everything  loose,  and  laid  ourselves  out  to  have  a 
general  good  time.  The  cook  had  been  advertising  his 
ability  to  make  custard  pie,  and  we  thought  this  a  con- 
venient opportunity  to  put  his  ability  to  the  test.  Of 
course,  he  had  to  have  milk,  for  there  is  no  substitute  for 
that  article  in  a  first-class  custard  pie.  Being  that  Bill 
and  I  fairly  doted  on  custard  pie,  it  was  our  duty  to 
provide  the  milk  for  the  occasion.  For  the  benefit  of 
my  readers,  let  me  say  that  if  you  have  a  longing  for 
custard  pie,  try  to  throttle  it  in  infancy,  or  train  it  so 
as  to  render  it  subject  to  proper  environment,  but  do  not, 
at  any  cost,  let  that  hankering  exercise  its  influence  on 
you  when  you  have  to  invade  the  rights  and  privileges 
of  a  wild  Tex&s  cow, — unless  you  are  prepared  to  fight 
to  a  finish.  Bill  and  I  felt  equal  to  the  occasion  and  set 
out  to  produce  the  required  article.  We  chose  a  cow 
that  seemed  to  have  more  milk  than  her  calf  required. 
Bill  roped  her,  threw  her  down, — which  was  a  cruel  thing 
to  do  to  a  young  mother — and  hog-tied  her.  I  was  on 
hand  with  a  can.  I  held  her  down  while  he  was  endeav- 
oring to  separate  her  from  her  milk.  With  much  labor 
and  some  verbal  protests  against  her  restlessness,  he  suc- 
ceeded in  extracting  about  a  pint.  I  took  the  fruit  of 
our  labors  and  rope  up  to  the  camp  and  proudly  gave  it 


134  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

to  the  cook.  He  informed  me  that  there  was  not  enough 
for  a  first-class  pie,  and  I  had  to  enlist  the  services  of 
Bill  once  more,  to  procure  the  required  quantity.  It  took 
considerable  wrangling  with  two  more  of  those  restless 
creatures  to  persuade  them  to  favor  us  with  some  of  their 
milk,  but  in  the  end  we  succeeded  and  returned  to  camp 
again.  In  the  meantime  the  cook  had  uncovered  some 
turkey  eggs  that  he  had  found  a  day  or  so  before,  and 
set  to  work  on  his  masterpiece — a  custard  pie.  Needless 
to  say,  his  production  was  up  to  the  advertisement,  and, 
also,  to  our  expectations. 

Our  cook  was  a  genius  in  his  line  of  endeavor.  It 
was  a  rare  thing  to  meet  a  cowpuncher  who  could  not 
turn  out  biscuits  of  some  degree  of  edibility,  but  we  had 
a  master  hand.  When  he  turned  over  to  the  inspection 
of  an  outfit  such  an  article  of  food  they  were  light  and 
fluffy,  and  when  dipped  in  antelope  gravy,  one  would 
have  to  have  a  case  of  indig'estion  in  an  alarming  condi- 
tion if  he  could  not  eat  them  with  an  appetite  like  a 
section  hand.  His  manner  of  preparing  the  dinner  table 
was  simplicity  itself.  He  used  to  spread  out  the  wagon 
sheet  for  a  table  cloth,  and  use  mother  earth  for  th'e 
table.  When  everything  was  ready  he  called  out  "Chuck 
away,"  and  found  us  ready  and  willing  to  pay  a  com- 
pliment to  his  endeavors. 

When  we  had  demolished  the  supper,  and  particu- 
larly the  custard  pie,  Bill  went  down  to  the  creek  to 
wash  out  a  few  shirts  as  he  did  not  wish  to  return  to  the 
ranch  with  his  clothing  in  an  unpresentable  condition. 
While  he  was  gone  the  cook  and  I  played  checkers  to  see 
who  would  wash  the  dishes.  I  lost. 

When  the  usual  routine  of  camp  life  with  the  herd 
had  been  comjpleted,  we  turned  in  to  have  one  good 
rest  to  be  ready  for  the  final  drive  next  day.  As  a 
reward  to  Old  Jimmie  for  his  fidelity  I  gave  him  an  extra 
measure  of  grain  and  a  few  caresses  to  show  that  I 
remembered  what  he  had  done  for  me.  Next  morning 
found  us  about  ready  to  start,  when  we  met  with  an 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  135 

unavoidable  delay,  Bill's  shirts  were  not  dry  and  we 
could  not  go  without  him.  We  filled  in  our  time  picking 
up  wood  and  filling  the  waterbucket  for  future  use. 
In  due  time  Bill's  lingerie  was  in  a  proper  condition  for 
use,  and  we  were  on  our  way  once  more. 

We  set  out  in  a  north-westerly  direction.  When  we 
had  gone  about  two  miles  we  crossed  the  trail  of  the 
wood-haulers  coming  over  from  Meade  county,  for  fire 
wood  and  fence  posts,  which  they  were  compelled  to 
collect  from  the  vicinity  of  Sand  Creek,  or  its  tributaries. 
As  the  trail  was  nearly  parallel  to  the  direction  we  were 
going,  we  followed  it  slowly  homewards.  We  halted  our 
herd  for  the  purpose  of  getting  dinner,  and  to  permit 
the  cattle  to  graze  or  rest  as  they  wished.  We  remained 
a  couple  of  hours,  knowing  that  we  could  make  the  home 
ranch  by  sundown.  We  set  out  for  the  final  drive,  moved 
along  slowly,  taking  things  easy  as  there  was  no  need 
to  hurry.  About  four  o'clock,  much  to  our  surprise,  it 
clouded  up  and  a  drizzle  set  in.  It  was  the  first  rain  we 
had  seen  in  months,  and  we  fairly  enjoyed  it.  However, 
we  put  on  our  slickers  to  avoid  too  much  of  a  good  thing. 
It  lasted  only  a  short  time  and  then  the  sun  shone  again. 
When  the  sun  broke  through  the  overhanging  clouds 
a  peculiar  phenomenon  presented  itself  to  our  view. 
Not  more  than  two  hundred  yards  in  advance  of  the 
lead  cattle  was  formed,  as  if  by  flash  light,  a  small  rain- 
bow directly  across  the  trail.  It  did  not  seen  to  be  more 
than  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards  from  side  to  side,  and 
not  more  than  half  that  distance  in  height  to  the  arch 
overhead.  I  have  seen  cyclones,  blizzards,  and  mirages, 
but  I  was  totally  unprepared  for  such  a  phenomenon  as 
I  then  witnessed.  I  confess,  if  I  had  been  alone,  I  would 
have  ridden  around  it  rather  than  pass  through  the 
archway.  I  could  not  give  a  scientific  explanation  of  the 
affair,  and  luckily  for  me  Bill  did  not  ask  for  one,  as 
he  was  one  of  those  impulsive,  unimaginative  men  who 
take  things  as  they  see  them  and  inquire  not  into  the 
causes  that  lead  to  their  existence.  Not  so  with  the 


136  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

teamster,  he  was  from  Arkansaw,  and  was  very  super- 
stitious. Whein  he  saw  the  wondroug  arch  stretched 
from  side  to  side  before  him,  he  stopped  the  team  until 
Bill  shouted  at  him  to  go  on  and  not  be  a  fool.  He  got 
in  motion  with  fear  and  trembling.  The  cattle  seemed 
to  realize  that  there  was  something  strange  about  the 
affair  and  crowded  through  as  though  going  through  a 
gateway.  When  we  had  passed  on  for  some  distance 
I  looked  back,  and  the  phenomenon  was  gone.  I  asked 
the  teamster  why  he  had  stopped  the  team,  and  he  gave 
me  a  characteristic  reply,  ''Gosh,  I  was  afraid  it  would 
fall  on  me.  I  heard  a  Sunday  School  teacher  say  once 
that  the  Lord  was  going  to  put  up  one  of  those  things 
every  once  in  a  while  to  show  that  he  was  not  going  to 
destroy  the  earth  by  flood  any  more."  "That's  all  right 
for  Western  Kansas,"  said  Bill,  "but  it  does  not  apply 
to  Arkansaw  where  they  are  drowned  out  every  spring  " 
We  reached  our  ranch  by  sundown,  and  turned  the 
cattle  loose  to  graze.  We  unsaddled  our  horses  with  a 
sigh  of  relief  that  the  long  trip  into  the  Territory  -»vas 
over.  By  the  time  we  washed  ourselves  and  combed  the 
sand  out  of  our  whiskers,  supper  was  ready  and  we  sat 
down  and  placed  our  feet  under  a  table  for  the  first 
time  in  months. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  Opening  of  the  State  of  Oklahoma;  The  Race  for 

Land;  Irrigation  in  the  Panhandle;  Postmasters  of 

Early  Days;  New  Locations,  etc. 

In  the  spring  of  the  year  1889,  the  president  of  the 
United  States  issued  a  proclamation  that  Oklahoma  was 
opened  for  homestead  settlement,  the  few  Indians  that 
had  already  settled  there  to  be  allowed  to  remain  in 
undisturbed  possession  of  their  holdings.  As  the  proc- 
lamation included  but  a  small  portion  of  the  present 
state,  the  other  little  nations  were  left  for  future  con- 
sideration. 

The  manner  in  which  the  homesteader  secured  his 
claim  is  unique  in  the  annals  of  history.  I  do  not  believe 
that  any  other  people  under  the  sun  ever  acquired  the 
right  and  title  to  a  homestead  in  quite  the  same  fashion 
as  that  employed  to  dole  out  to  homeseekers  the  claims 
which  they  had  acquired  a  right  to  by  registering  at 
the  land  office.  I  am  under  the  impression  that  it  is  an 
institution  peculiarly  American.  Whatever  the  merits  of 
the  system  maybe,  it  produced  results  more  or  less 
beneficial,  according  as  you  look  at  it  from  the  point  of 
view  of  the  homeseeker,  or  the  grafter.  For  the  benefit 
of  posterity  I  shall  set  it  down  that  they  may  see,  at 
least,  how  it  was  done,  and  be  able  to  judge  of  the  merit 
of  the  means  employed  to  insure  the  results  intended. 

On  the  day  set  aside  for  the  opening  of  the  new 
territory  to  homeseekers,  all  those  who  had  filed  on  an 
allotment,  were  to  take  their  position  on  a  line  marked 
for  the  purpose,  just  as  the  foot-racer  toes  the  scratch 
awaiting  the  signal  for  the  dash.  Some  had  been  there 
for  some  time,  others  came  at  the  last  moment.  No  one 
was  permitted  to  invade  the  new  territory  until  a -signal 


138  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

was  given  and  then  they  were  to  rush  pell-mell  to  secure 
the  claim  they  found  to  be  the  most  in  accordance  with 
their  wishes.  It  was  a  strange  sight  to  behold  them 
drawn  up  in  every  conceivable  kind  of  vehicle,  and  those 
who  had  no  vehicle  were  on  horse  back,  mule  back,  or 
on  foot.  Anxiety  was  pictured  on  every  countenance. 
Those  who  had  waited  longest  had  their  patience  tried 
to  the  limit.  In  order  to  insure  every  man  a  chance  for 
an  equal  opportunity,  a  company  of  soldiers  was  drawn 
up  to  prevent  any  one  taking  any  undue  advantage  of 
his  neighbor.  At  least,  they  were  supposed  to  do  so,  but 
under  the  cover  of  darkness  during  the  night  before, 
hundreds  of  persons  known  afterwards  as  "Sooners," 
crept  through  the  line  and  hid  themselves  in  some  con- 
venient ravine  and  remained  there  under  cover  until  the 
signal  was  given  next  day.  These  men,  as  soon  as  the 
word  was  given  to  go,  rushed  out  and  staked  a  claim, 
and  when  the  lawful  owners  appeared,  they  were  ordered 
to  move  on,  and  the  order  was  enforced  at  the  end  of 
a  gun.  The  Sooner  was  not  only  in  posession,  but  stood 
ready  to  defend  his  claim  against  all  comers  as  he  had 
witnesses  to  prove  his  statements  about  the  preemption 
of  the  property  and  his  prior  right  to  the  land  in  ques- 
tion. 

On  the  day  appointed  for  the  start  of  the  race,  every 
one  was  in  a  fever  of  expectancy.  The  starter  was  eyed 
keenly  in  his  every  move  to  detect  some  indication  of 
the  signal  about  to  be  given.  Horses  heads  were  pushing 
over  the  line,  the  driver  standing  in  his  wagon  ready  to 
ply  the  whip  to  produce  the  required  speed  for  the  occa- 
sion, old  ramshackle  buggies  were  there  whose  very 
appearance  signified  that  this  was  likely  to  be  their  last 
run.  Even  oxen  with  their  necks  bent  beneath  the 
weight  of  their  bows,  felt  the  fever  of  the  excitement 
and  were  anxious  to  be  off.  Horsemen  stood  in  the 
stirrups  with  a  quirt  ready,  to  make  a  dash  across  the 
rolling  plains.  As  the  hands  of  the  watch  crept  toward 
twelve,  one  could  notice  a  tightening  of  the  jaws  and 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  139 

a  look  of  grim,  resolve  come  over  the  countenances  of 
those  participating  in  the  race.  Eagerly  they  looked  for 
the  signal,  slowly  the  hands  of  the  watch  in  the  time- 
keeper's hand  moved  on.  The  starter  was  seen  to  move 
his  hand  to  the  pistol  scabbard  and  draw  his  weapon 
Up  it  rose  slowly  in  the  air  and  absolute  silence  prevailed. 
For  one  moment  he  held  the  gun  aloft  and  then,  "Bang" 
went  the  forty-five  and  the  race  was  on.  Yelling,  whoop- 
ing, swearing,  off  they  dashed  in  their  mad  flight. 
Wagons  rumbled  and  bounded  over  the  uneven  ground, 
whips  were  wielded  with  pitiless  abandon;  horses  dashed 
in  mad  affright  to  gain  the  front  of  the  wild  careening 
mob;  oxen  tossing  their  wide-spreading  horns,  with  lum- 
bering gait,  dragged  their  burden  of  a  rattling  wagon  in 
their  mad  dash.  All  was  confusion  in  the  first  mad 
plunge.  Then  slowly  but  surely  the  better  mounted  and 
better  bred  gradually  drew  away  from  their  slower-footed 
competitors,  and  disappeared  on  the  horizon.  Naturally 
those  in  advance  secured  the  better  locations,  excepting 
where  the  sooners  had  stealthily  pre-empted  some  desira- 
ble location.  With  the  slower  ones,  it  was  a  case  of  take 
what  was  left  and  make  the  best  of  it.  In  case  a  man 
found  himself  dispossessed  by  a  Sooner,  there  was  only 
one  recourse  remaining  and  that  was  to  buy  him  out  at 
once,  or  go  to  court  about  the  matter,  and  that  was  as 
hazardous  as  trying  to  drive  him  out,  as  the  courts  were 
largely  operated  on  the  kangaroo  plan.  The  judge  of 
today  might  be  the  criminal  of  tomorrow,  and  the  crim- 
inal of  today  might  be  tomorrow  seated  on  the  judge's 
bench  administering  justice?  in  a  very  summary  manner. 

This  transpired  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago,  and 
some  of  those  who  went  into  court  to  contest  for  their 
rights  are  still  pleading  their  cases  with  little  likelihood 
of  their  ever  attaining  a  solution  of  the  difficulty  as  long 
as  there  are  fees  to  be  collected. 

I  noticed  in  my  experience  during  the  opening  of 
the  territory  to  homeseekers,  that  Cash,  Clemency,  and 
Justice  traveled  on  parallel  lines,  and  when  the  Cash 


140  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

failed  to  put  an  appearance,  Clemency  and  Justice  dis- 
appeared also,  as  the  dew  dissolves  before  che  morning 
sun.  There  were  some  Sooners  sent  to  the  penitentiary 
for  perjury,  but  they  were  likely  to  be  pardoned  in  time 
to  vote  at  the  next  election.  In  view  of  the  number  of 
felons  who  have  been  set  at  liberty,  one  is  forced  to  con- 
clude that  there  have  been  some  very  tender-hearted 
Governors  in  the  state. 

When  the  first  homeseekers  were  drawing  up  in  line 
for  the  mad  race  across  the  plain,  I  joined  them.  I  was 
very  curtly  told  that  I  had  not  any  right  to  take  part  in 
the  free-for-all  scramble  for  property,  as  I  had  640  acres 
of  land  in  the  Panhandle  of  Texas.  Being  that  they  felt 
that  way  about  it,  I  did  not  press  my  right,  but  grace- 
fully withdrew,  and  took  only  an  observer's  interest  in 
the  headlong  gallop  that  occurred.  When  the  excitement 
had  somewhat  subsided,  I  returned  to  my  holdings  in 
the  Panhandle  and  took  up  the  burden  of  making  what 
improvements  I  thought  necessary  to  make  it  a  desirable 
homestead.  I  had  in  view  the  completion  of  an  irrigation 
ditch  that  I  had  begun  before  I  left  to  see  the  opening 
in  Oklahoma.  On  my  return  I  hired  a  few  laborers  to 
help  with  the  work.  It  took  considerable  labor  and 
money  to  complete  the  task,  and  when  I  had  it  done,  I 
found  that  all  my  labor  and  money  had  been  in  vain. 
When  I  did  not  need  water,  there  was  too  much  of  it, 
and  when  I  did  need  it,  the  creek  that  was  to  furnish  me 
the  supply,  was  as  dry  as  a  bone.  I  became  disgusted 
with  that  place  and  sold  out  for  about  fifty  per  cent  of 
what  the  improvements  cost  me.  Times  were  hard  just 
then.  There  was  but  little  money  in  the  country,  a  long 
hard  winter  had  killed  off  multitudes  of  the  range  cattle, 
and  the  long  dry  summer  had  killed  off  all  hopes  of  re- 
lief to  be  found  in  successful  farming.  To  make  our 
condition  more  lonely,  the  mail  facilities  were  not  what 
th'ey  should  have  been  for  some  time.  Sometimes  a  week 
would  elapse,  and  very  frequently  several  weeks  would 
pass  by  without  our  hearing  anything  from  the  outside 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  141 

world.  Our  postmaster  was  not  entirely  to  blame  as  he 
did  the  best  he  could  in  fulfilling  his  duties.  As  he  could 
read  or  write  very  little,  it  placed  him  at  a  great  disad- 
vantage, but  he  struggled  along  against  the  disadvantage 
of  his  lack  of  training  to  try  to  satisfy  his  patrons. 
When  the  mail  arrived,  he  opened  the  sack  and  dumped 
the  contents  out  on  a  barrel  head  and  permitted  each 
patron  to  help  himself.  If  Big  Jim,  or  Little  Ike  hap- 
pened to  be  in  from  some  ranch  or  other,  they  would 
look  over  the  pile  and  take  the  number  of  letters  they 
thought  belonged  to  their  respective  ranches,  put  them 
in  the  pocket  of  their  slicker,  mount  their  ponies  and 
ride  away.  Perhaps,  in  a  week  or  so,  some  of  the  letters 
would  be  returned  to  the  office  marked,  "opened  by  mis- 
take," and  others  were  never  returned  at  all.  I  will  say 
that  there  were  more  letters  opened  by  mistake  in  that 
office  than  in  any  office  in  the  whole  United  States,  tak- 
ing into  consideration  the  numbers  of  letters  received. 
As  many  years  have  passed  since  that  time,  I  have  often 
wondered  what  became  of  the  efficient  postmaster  of 
Wolf  Creek.  As  he  was  a  good,  loyal  Democrat  of  the 
Andrew  Jackson  type,  I  thought  I  might  see  him  some 
time  in  the  Oklahoma  Senate,  but  have  looked  in  vain. 
He  may  have  received  an  appointment  to  an  Ambassador- 
ship in  Mexico,  but  I  have  not  heard  of  it.  However, 
wherever  he  is,  if  he  be  living,  I  wish  him  well. 

About  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing,  it  was  cur- 
rently reported  and  generally  believed  that  a  millionaire 
named  George  R.  Timms  was  building  a  city  at  the  head 
of  Kiowa  Creek,  and  that  there  were  churches,  schools, 
and  all  the  improvements  that  go  to  make  a  prosperous 
town.  One  could  get  all  the  advantages  of  such  a  place 
by  buying  a  lot  .or  two  on  the  installment  plan.  I  de- 
cided to  take  advantage  of  such  a  brilliant  opportunity 
of  getting  into  closer  touch  with  civilization.  I  rounded 
up  my  horses  and  cattle  and  set  out  toward  the  land  of 
so  much  promise.  Imagine  my  surprise  and  even  aston- 
ishment when  I  reached  the  place,  to  find  it  almost  to- 


142  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

tally  abandoned.  I  rode  around  through  the  deserted 
streets  without  seeing  a  single  person.  I  was  about  to 
pronounce  the  thing  a  complete  failure,  from  the  point 
of  view  of  population,  when  I  discovered  a  bench-legged, 
bullet-eyed  individual  approaching  me.  Where  he  came 
from  I  do  not  know.  In  questioning  him  about  the  place 
I  was  informed  that  he  had  been  one  of  the  original  in- 
habitants, that  the  rest  had  left,  but  he  couldn't  get 
away  for  lack  of  means.  In  his  desire  to  take  advan- 
tage of  opportunity,  he  offered  to  sell  me  a 
town  lot.  1  replied  that  I  did  not  think  there 
was  any  great  demand  for  town  lots  just  then,  and 
that  there  was  little  likelihood  of  a  boom  there  for  some 
time  if  present  conditions  were  any  indication  of  the 
business  prospects  of  the  town.  I  inquired  where  I  could 
find  a  house  to  move  into,  and  he  told  me  to  take  my 
choice  of  the  whole  place.  I  looked  the  town  over  and 
finally  decided  that  the  hotel  was  about  the  best  building 
for  my  purposes  just  then.  There  I  remained  during  my 
stay  in  Timms  City.  I  made  some  further  inquiries  of 
my  fellow  townsman  as  soon  as  I  had  taken  up  my  abode 
in  the  Timms  House,  and  he  told  me  that  all  the  popu- 
lation had  gone  away  to  Oklahoma  to  take  up  land ;  that 
there  were  only  two  persons  left  behind.  I  remained  in 
the  forsaken  city  for  some  time,  and  spent  my  leisure 
moments  in  hunting  antelope.  I  did  not  meet  with  much 
success  in  this  line  of  endeavor,  as  there  were  very  few 
left  in  the  locality. 

One  day,  while  sitting  in  front  of  my  new  abode,  I 
was  called  upon  by  some  ranchmen  in  the  neighborhood. 
They  asked  me  if  I  would  take  charge  of  the  postoffice. 
They  explained  that  it  was  very  difficult  for  them  to  get 
their  mail,  and  if  that  office  was  closed  up,  it  would  leave 
them  in  a  very  serious  predicament.  I  replied  that  it 
was  impossible  for  me  to  take  charge  of  the  office  as  I 
was  about  to  take  a  trip  East,  and  hence  would  not  be 
able  to  attend  to  the  official  duties  of  the  place.  I  told 
them  that  I  appreciated  the  confidence  they  had  in  me, 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  143 

a  stranger,  thanked  them  for  the  offer,  but  declined 
firmly  to  undertake  the  duties  of  the  position.  I  made 
mention  of  the  fact  that  my  wife  had  had  some  experi- 
ence in  the  work,  and  if  she  would  be  willing  to  under- 
take the  running  of  the  place,  it  would  be  agreeable  to 
me.  She  undertook  the  task  and  after  three  months  of 
trouble  and  worry  incident  to  the  business,  the  returns 
showed  that  she  had  received  ONE  DOLLAR  AND 
THIRTY-NINE  CENTS,  a  handsome  sum  for  the  time 
and  energy  spent  upon  the  thankless  task.  After  that 
matter  was  disposed  of,  they  requested  me  to  accept  the 
office  of  " Justice  of  the  Peace,"  an  offer  that  I  declined, 
as  I  never  had  any  hankering  for  political  preferment. 
They  told  me  they  had  to  find  some  one  to  fill  the  office 
until  the  next  election  took  place.  They  gave  me  to 
understand  that  the  man  who  had  filled  that  important 
position  knew  nothing  of  the  Texas  laws.  To  give  me 
an  example  of  his  mental  acumen  and  his  judicial  integ- 
rity, they  said  that,  one  one  occasion  he  tried  a  man  for 
stealing  a  cow.  The  theft  was  proven  beyond  the  shadow 
of  a  doubt.  When  the  evidence  was  all  in,  he  took  the 
case  under  advisement  for  ten  days,  and  then  he  sent 
the  man  who  owned  the  cow  to  jail  for  ninety  days  and 
turned  the  thief  loose.  When  asked  why  he  had  taken 
such  a  course  in  his  administration  of  justice,  he  replied 
that,  in  his  judgment,  they  were  both  thieves,  and  he 
had  sent  the  man  to  jail  who  could  best  endure  the  con- 
finement. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

The  Messiah  Craze;  A  Thrilling  Experience;  An  Arkan- 
saw  Traveler,  Etc. 

A  short  time  prior  to  the  period  of  which  I  am  writ- 
ing, there  had  heen  taught  and  promulgated  by  some 
half-breed,  a  religion  which  afterwards  became  known  as 
the  "  Messiah  Crazs."  It  had  spread  all  over  the  North- 
west territories  and  finally  reached  Oklahoma.  The  prin- 
cipal tenet  of  this  strange  religion  was  that  the  Great 
Spirit  was  going  to  remove  all  the  white  folks  and  re- 
store the  buffalo  to  his  native  plains,  which  were  to  be- 
come a  sort  of  "Happy  Hunting  Grounds"  for  the  In- 
dians, or  a  heaven  on  -earth  where  everything  was  to  be 
peace,  joy,  and  chuckaway  without  end. 

I  had  heard  something  about  it,  but  had  paid  little 
or  no  attention  to  it.  The  current  of  events  lent  an 
aspect  of  truth  to  the  prophecy,  as,  about  that  time  the 
cowmen  were  being  removed  from  the  Cherokee  Strip, 
their  fences  and  ranches  torn  down  and  moved  away. 
All  this  seemed  to  say  to  the  half -crazed  Indians  that  the 
white  man's  race  was  about  run.  All  they  had  to  do 
was  to  wait  a  while  and  their  earthly  paradise  would  be 
opened  for  Indian  occupation.  I  could  not  see  things  in 
the  same  light  as  the  Indian  enthusiast.  It  looked  to  me 
as  if  the  Government  intended  to  throw  the  Cherokee 
country  open  to  homestead  settlement.  The  truth  of  this 
conjecture  was  proven  shortly  afterwards,  and  showed 
that  I  had  the  correct  solution  of  the  movement. 

I  made  up  my  mind  to  make  a  journey  down  through 
that  section  to  learn  something  of  the  topography  of  the 
place  and  also  to  find  a  good  location  in  which  to  make  a 
settlement  when  it  was  opened  for  the  purpose.  I  fitted 
out  my  wagon  with  the  necessary  supplies  for  the  jaunt, 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  145 

took  five  head  of  horses,  and  took  my  little  boy,  Emmet, 
then  about  twelve  years  of  age,  for  company.  When 
all  preparations  were  properly  made,  we  started  out  on 
what  was  to  be  a  perilous  journey. 

On  our  first  night  out,  we  stayed  with  Judge  Gard, 
on  Mammoth  Creek.  He  was  County  Judge,  one  of  those 
whole-souled  men  who  never  knew  what  it  was  to  pull  in 
the  latch-string-that  hung  on  his  door.  We  spent  the  even- 
ing very  pleasantly  exchanging  experiences  of  former 
dayis.  Next  morning  we  set  out  before  dawn,  and  sunrise 
found  us  on  Wolf  Creek  trail.  We  followed  this  along  the 
creek  until  we  reached  its  mouth,  where  it  joins  the 
Beaver,  and  forms  the  head-waters  of  the  North  Can- 
adian River,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  Ft.  Supply. 
From  there  we  took  the  trail  leading  to  the  little  town 
of  Woodward,  only  a  station  erected  alongside  the  rail- 
road which  had  been  recently  built  through  that  coun- 
try. Here  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Thomas  Bug- 
bee,  an  old-time  cowmen  who  was  shipping  his  cattle 
preparatory  to  leaving  the  Cherokee  Strip.  I  had  a 
friendly  chat  with  him,  and  then  pulled  out  and  pro- 
ceeded on  my  way  along  the  Canadian  River.  We  had 
not  gone  very  far  011  our  way  when  we  met  an  old 
frontiersman  and  prince  of  scouts,  Amos  Chapman,  tak- 
ing a  band  of  Cheyenne  Indians  to  Camp  Supply  to  draw 
their  rations.  As  it  was  now  past  noon,  we  stopped  to 
let  the  horses  graze  while  we  prepared  something  for  our 
wants.  Whilst  there  we  inquired  of  Amos  how  things 
were  running  down  the  river.  He  told  us  something 
about  the  excitement  that  had  been  stirred  up.  While 
we  were  eating  the  Indians  filed  by,  and  their  appear- 
ance was  not  any  too  encouraging.  Before  parting  with 
us,  he  advised  us  to  keep  a  close  watch  on  them  as  they 
were  all  affected  with  the  Messiah  Craze;  that  they  had 
been  making  medicine,  and  were  liable  to  break  out  at 
any  time,  but  that  up  to  the  present  they  had  done  noth- 
ing more  than  was  customary  with  them.  As  he  had 
several  bullet  marks  as  souvenirs  of  former  encounters 


146  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

with  them,  and  had  also  lost  one  leg  in  an  Indian  fight, 
I  knew  that  I  was  talking  to  a  man  of  no  small  experi- 
ence, and  felt  that  his  advice  was  worth  taking.  He 
noticed  that  I  had  some  good  horses  with  me,  and 
warned  me  to  keep  them  picketed  close  to  me  while  I 
slept,  as  a  good  horse  was  a  very  great  temptation  to 
an  Indian,  especially  a  bad  one,  but  generally  speaking 
my  stock  was  safe  enough.  I  thanked  him  for  his  coun- 
sel, and  as  the  afternoon  was  fast  slipping  away,  I  moved 
on. 

As  the  cowmen  had  nearly  all  left  that  part  of  the 
country,  and  as  the  Indians  had  all  gone  to  Camp  Supply 
for  their  rations,  we  did  not  meet  many  travelers  on  the 
trail  that  afternoon.  We  went  into  camp  early,  and  pur- 
suant to  the  advice  given  us,  we  picketed  our  horses 
near  at  hand.  There  was  no  curfew  rung  that  night,  but 
there  was  a  good  substitute,  for,  about  a  mile  away 
there  was  camped  a  company  of  soldiers,  sent  out  from 
the  Fort  ostensibly  for  the  purpose  of  exercise,  but  in 
reality  to  watch  the  movements  of  the  Indians.  At  the 
passing  of  every  hour  we  could  hear  the  sentry  call  out 
that  all  was  well.  As  this  was  my  first  night  to  camp 
out  in  some  time  I  did  not  sleep  very  well,  and,  conse- 
quently, was  up  at  daybreak  ready  to  start.  The  usual 
formalities  of  breakfast  for  ourselves  and  attention  to 
our  outfit  had  been  attended  to,  and  we  took  up  our 
journey  once  more.  We  had  not  gone  more  that  a  mile 
when  I  discovered  a  lone  man  standing  beside  the  trail 
with  a  gun  in  his  hands.  What  he  was  doing  there  was 
a  mystery  to  me.  I  could  not  see  any  horse  near  him, 
nor  was  there  anything  else  in  sight  to  give  a  clue  to 
his  presence  there.  In  the  meantime  I  kept  mov- 
ing on,  with  one  eye  on  the  man  and  the  other  on  the 
trail.  When  I  was  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  him, 
he  raised  his  gun  and  fired.  I  could  see  the  smoke  and 
hear  the  report,  but  could  not  discover  the  object  he 
was  trying  to  shoot.  As  I  approached  him,  I  discovered 
that  the  man  before  me  was  an  Indian,  bare-headed  with 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  147 

his  hair  plaited  down  his  back,  and  wearing  a  good  suit 
of  Uncle  Sam's  clothes.  His  foot-gear  consisted  of  a 
nicely  beaded  pair  of  moccasins.  His  was  a  majestic 
figure  as  he  stood  there  straight  as  an  arrow  and  meas- 
uring about  six  feet,  four  inches  in  height.  He  saluted 
me  with  the  customary  Indian,  •" How,"  and  I  returned 
his  salutation.  I  enquired  of  him  what  the  difficulty 
was,  as  it  was  an  unusual  thing  to  meet  a  lone  Indian 
on  the  p  rairie.  I  knew  there  was  something  out  of  the 
ordinary,  or  he  would  not  be  there.  Then  my  difficulty 
began.  He  knew  comparatively  nothing  of  the  English 
language  and  I  knew  less  of  his  sign  mode  of  communi- 
cation. He  seemed  rather  eager  to  communicate  with 
me,  and  I  was  anxious  to  know  the  cause  of  his  rather 
unusual  predicament.  It  seemed  a  hopeless  task  to  try 
to  make  anything  out  of  what  he  was  trying  to  tell  me. 
However,  by  battling  with  his  broken  English,  and  mix- 
ing in  a  few  Cheyenne  words  that  I  knew,  I  arrived  at 
some  solution  of  the  difficulty.  The  fact  was  that  he 
had  been  over  on  the  South  Canadian  on  some  mission 
from  the  sub-agency,  and  his  horse  had  thrown  him  and 
left  him  afoot  on  the  prairie.  As  there  were  no  Indians 
in  the  neighborhood  from  whom  he  could  borrow  a  horse, 
(they  were  all  away  attending  the  Messiah  dance),  he 
was  trying  to  make  his  way  back  on  foot.  As  he  had 
had  nothing  to  eat  since  the  day  before  he  had  been 
trying  to  shoot  a  prairie  dog,  but  he  had  met  with  no 
success.  Then  I  knew  that  he  was  hungry. 

The  Government  has  succeeded  in  moving  the  In- 
dians around  from  one  agency  to  another,  and  in  some 
instances  the  agents  have  plundered  the  wards  of  the 
Government  of  their  provisions  and  clothing,  but  they 
have  never  succeeded  in  removing  a  live  Indian's  appe- 
tite. 

That  Indian's  condition  aroused  my  sympathy,  and  I 
felt  that  something  should  be  done  to  relieve  his  imme- 
diate wants.  I  reached  behind  the  seat  to  the  grub-box, 
and  brought  forth  some  cold  biscuits  that  remained  from 


148  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

the  meal  of  the  day  before.  When  he  saw  what  I  had  in 
my  hand,  a  broad  smile  of  satisfaction  spread  over  his 
face.  When  I  saw  that  he  relished  the  biscuits  so  much, 
I  cut  open  a  can  of  tomatoes  and  handed  it  to  him.  This 
seemed  to  delight  him  even  more  than  did  the  biscuits, 
and  it  was  a  pleasure  to  see  him  drink  the  liquid  first 
and  then  with  a  broad  grin  eat  the  tomatoes  one  after 
another  with  all  evidence  of  deep  content.  There  I  was 
doing  as  the  Good  Samaritan  had  done,  to  the  man  that  I 
thought  was  standing  beside  the  trail  to  shoot  me. 
During  my  interview  with  the  Indian,  one  of  the  horses 
had  strayed  away  some  distance,  and  Emmet  had  ridden 
after  him  to  bring  him  back  to  the  buck-board.  When 
the  Indian  saw  him,  he  said  admiringly,  "Heap  good 
papoose."  He  seemed  to  take  a  great  interest  in  the 
boy,  but  I  was  wondering  whether  it  was  the  boy  or  the 
rifle  he  was  carrying  on  his  saddle.  As  I  had  learned 
the  direction  of  his  teepee  I  invited  him  to  take  a  seat 
beside  me  so  that  we  might  be  moving  onward.  When 
he  settled  himself  into  the  seat,  he  gave  a  loud  grunt 
of  satisfaction.  We  rode  along  for  several  miles  to  where 
the  river  make  a  bend,  and  came  close  to  the  trail. 
There  I  decided  to  camp  as  it  was  convenient  for  wood 
and  water.  I  turned  in  there,  and  I  had  no  sooner 
stopped  than  the  Indian  was  out  gathering  wood  and 
kindling  to  start  a  fire.  I  unhitched  and  Emmet  drove 
the  horses  down  to  the  river  to  get  a  drink,  and  let  them 
graz'e  until  they  were  needed  again.  At  this  time  I 
needed  no  interpreter.  I  handed  the  Indian  a  knife  and 
a  side  of  bacon,  pointed  to  the  skillet,  and  he  understood 
the  signs  perfectly.  He  immediately  set  to  work  to 
attend  to  the  frying  and  I  undertook  the  work  of  getting 
the  dishes  ready  for  our  meal.  As  I  had  a  guest,  I  took 
out  an  extra  quantity  of  coffee,  and  an  extra  plate,  etc. 
The  Indian  showed  himself  no  novice  in  the  line  of 
cooking,  and  we  soon  had  a  repast  ready  that  would 
satisfy  the  craving  of  any  hungry  man,  prince,  poten- 
tate, or  plebeian.  Some  folks  might  think  it  intolerable 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  149 

to  dine  in  the  manner  employed  on  such  occasions.  We 
bade  defianc'e  to  all  the  germ  theories  that  were  being 
advanced  at  that  time,  and  adapted  ourselves  to  the 
conditions  of  time  and  place.  After  the  horses  had 
grazed  for  some  time  we  hooked  up  again,  and  set  forth 
without  any  further  ceremony.  My  guest  seemed  to 
wish  to  communicate  some  idea  to  me  and  kept  his  hands 
and  fingers  as  busy  as  a  Drogheda  weaver,  but  all  to  no 
purpose  as  I  could  not  understand  him.  I  drove  along 
on  my  mission,  the  Indian  all  the  time  making  his  signs. 
At  times  he  looked  disgusted  because  he  could  not 
break  through  my  ignorance.  Probably,  if  I  had  made 
more  of  an  effort,  I  might  have  understood  enough  to 
avoid  some  unpleasant  complications  which  followed 
soon  afterwards.  In  the  meantime,  Emmet,  boylike,  had 
been  keeping  his  eye  open  for  anything  in  the  shape  of 
game  and  held  his  gun  in  readiness  to  bring  it  into 
immediate  play.  We  were  jaunting  along  rapidly 
enough,  and  the  rattling  of  the  buckboard  disturbed  the 
repose  of  a  coyote  that  was  lying  in  the  sage  brush 
along  the  trail.  When  he  jumped  up  to  take  a  survey 
of  the  situation,  Emmet  fired  at  him  and,  whether 
through  accident  or  good  marksmanship,  I  cannot  say, 
brought  down  the  beast  on  the  spot.  At  the  crack  of 
the  gun,  the  Indian  turned  his  head  just  in  time  to  see 
the  coyote  fall,  then  turned  loose  some  more  sign  lan- 
guage and  closed  his  efforts  by  saying,  "heap  good  pa- 
poose." We  proceeded  along  our  way  until  we  were  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Cantonment.  Then  my  fellow-tra 
veller  made  a  sign  that  he  wanted  me  to  stop,  which  I  did. 
He  left  the  buckboard  and  started  off  through  the  brush, 
I  suppose,  to  where  his  teepee  was  located,  some  place 
along  the  river. 

I  learned  afterwards  tnrougii  an  interpreter  that  my 
companion  was  not  a  bad  Indian,  but  one  of  the  nu- 
merous Red  Men  appointed  by  Uncle  Sam  to  look  after 
the  movements  of  the  different  tribes  who  at  that  time 


150  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

were  taking  part  in  the  Messiah  craze,  and  report  to  the 
fort  or  agency  the  condition  in  which  he  found  them. 

In  the  distance  I  could  see  the  timber  which  skirts 
a  small  creek  running  into  the  river,  where  I  concluded 
there  would  be  a  good  place  to  camp  as  there  would  be 
plenty'  of  wood  and  water  there,  and  likewise  good 
pasture  for  the  horses.  It  was  now  past  the  middle  of 
the  afternoon,  and  I  decided  to  go  into  camp  early  so 
as  to  have  a  good  night's  rest,  and  give  the  horses  an 
opportunity  for  a  good  graze  to  freshen  up  after  the 
long  drive. 

It  did  not  take  me  long  to  reach  the  creek,  and 
when  I  drove  over  the  hill  and  down  into  the  bottom 
lands,  what  was  my  surprise  and  consternation  to  find 
that  I  had  driven  into  the  storm  center  of  the  Messiah 
Dance  then  being  held  on  the  bank  of  the  river.  There 
were  between  five  hundred  and  a  thousand  Chyennes 
and  Arpahoes  in  the  assemblage.  Just  at  the  moment 
they  were  holding  what  the  cowmen  call  a  "powow." 
I  was  evidently  in  a  very  ticklish  situation.  What  to 
do  I  did  not  know.  One  thing  I  decided  on  in  a  very 
hasty  manner,  and  that  was  that  there  was  no  use  in 
showing  the  white  feather  just  then.  I  drove  up  within 
about  twenty  rods  of  their  headquarters.  I  got  out  and 
began  to  unhitch.  I  was  certainly1  taking  the  dilemma 
by  the  horns  and  determined  to  make  the  most  of  the 
situation.  While  trying  to  make  myself  feel  comforta- 
ble, which  I  was  far  from  doing,  I  told  Emmet  to  hobble 
the  rest  of  the  ponies  to  prevent  their  wandering  away. 
Then  I  set  to  work  to  make  flap-jacks  and  coffee,  and 
I  do  not  believe  that  flap-jacks  were  ever  turned  out 
under  such  circumstances  before  or  since.  I  had  been 
doing  a  lot  of  thinking  over  the  situation,  but  found 
that,  no  matter  what  angle  I  viewed  it  from,  I  was  in 
difficulties.  I  did  not  dare  to  tell  Emmet  what  was 
passing  through  my  mind  for  fear  he  would  lose  his 
courage,  and  I  must  say  that  my  own  was  fast  ebbing. 
I  did  not  libe  to  acknowledge  to  my  boy  that  I  was 


OK  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  151 

afraid.  They  say  that  God  hates  a  liar,  and  I  must  say 
that  I  am  no  greater  admirer  of  such  a  man  myself, 
but  when  Emmet  ask  me  what  the  disturbance  was  all 
about,  I  had  to  evade  his  question  and  put  him  off  by 
saying  that  there  was  nothing  wrong,  that  the  Indians 
were  out  on  one  of  their  picnics,  which  they  were  accus- 
tomed to  hold  frequently.  I  knew  I  was  deceiving  him, 
but  felt  that  it  was  the  best  I  could  do  under  the  cir- 
cumstances. I  knew  that  the  Indians  claimed  to  be  in 
touch  with  Messiah  and  Messiah  had  promised  to  remove 
the  white  man  and  restore  the  buffalo  to  his  native 
plains,  and  I  began  to  think  seriously  that  I  might  be 
the  first  pale-face  on  which  that  order  might  take  effect. 
While  making  my  flap-jacks  for  supper,  I  had  a 
visit  from  some  eight  or  ten  bucks  dressed  up  in  white 
sheets.  They  came  •  and  stood  around  me  in  a  half 
circle.  They  did  not  speak  a  word,  nor  even  utter  a 
grunt.  I  continued  to  give  my  undivided  attention  to 
the  wrork  at  hand,  apparently  unaware  of  their  presence. 
They  remained  there  motionless  as  statues  for  fifteen  or 
twenty  minutes.  If  one  of  them  moved  a  muscle,  I  did 
not  know  it.  Their  presence  was  rather  disconcerting, 
to  say  the  least,  but  what  could  I  do  about  it?  Why 
they  were  wearing  those  white  sheets,  I  could  not  under- 
stand. It  might,  probably,  have  been  a  part  of  their 
regalia  for  the  ceremony.  Whatever  it  was,  it  did  not 
add  anything  to  my  feelings  of  comfort.  At  a  signal 
from  headquarters  they  left  me  as  uncerimoniously  as 
they  had  come.  I  had  a  Winchester  leaning  against  the 
front  wheel  of  the  wagon,  and  a  six-shooter  lying  on 
the  top  of  the  grub-box,  and  Emmet  had  a  rifle  close 
at  hand,  which  went  to  show  that  we  were  pretty  well 
able  to  look  after  ourselves  in  case  of  emergency.  Just 
then  my  attention  was  attracted  by  the  rumbling  of 
wheels  and  on  looking  around  I  saw  a  man  driving  a 
small  team  of  ponies  in  my  direction.  I  was  rather 
glad  of  his  arrival,  whoever  he  might  be.  Some  one 
has  said  that  "misery  loves  company,"  and  I  have  yet 


152  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

to  learn  which  was  the  greater  nuisance,  my  misery  or 
my  new-found  arrival.  I  was  anxious  for  a  relief  from 
the  present  embarrassing  conditions,  and  invited  him 
to  stop  and  have  something  to  eat.  He  complied  with 
my  request,  or  rather  invitation.  He  unhitched  his 
ponies,  not  a  very  difficult  task  as  he  employed  a  simpli- 
fied harness  of  the  chain  variety,  with  corn-husk  collars, 
and  no  throat-latch  to  the  bridles.  When  he  went 
towards  the  wagon  the  old  ponies  seemed  to  know  what 
was  coming,  and  shook  their  heads  and  the  bridles  fell 
off,  and  they  went  to  grazing.  While  Emmet  was  making 
more  coffee  and  frying  an  extra  quantity  of  meat,  I 
went  over  to  inspect  his  outfit.  It  was  certainly  a 
strange  make-up  for  a  man  on  a  journey.  There  was  no 
bedding  in  sight,  and  no  kind  of  cooking  outfit.  There 
was  an  old  gun  that  had  once  been  a  flint-lock,  and 
might  have  seen  service  in  the  battle  of  Waterloo.  The 
breach  had  been  cut  off  and  it  had  been  restocked.  The 
barrel  was  about  four  feet  long,  and  for  a  front  sight 
it  had  something  that  very  much  resembled  a  brass 
collar  button.  The  butt  of  the  stock  was  wrapped  in 
a  gunny  sack  and  tied  up  carefully  with  binder  twine, 
which  I  learned  afterwards  was  for  the,  purpose  of 
lessening  the  concussion  on  his  shoulder  when  firing  it. 

My  guest  sat  down  to  eat,  and  while  he  was  thus 
occupied,  I  made  bc-id  to  question  him  as  to  whence  he 
came  and  whither  he  was  going.  He  informed  me  that 
he  was  from  Arkansaw  and  was  on  his  way  to  N,o-Man's 
Land  where  he  had  relations.  I  then  ask  him  to  men- 
tion some  of  the  folks  he  was  going  to  bless  with  his 
presence.  From  the  reply  he  gave  me  I  knew  that  I 
was  face  to  face  with  an  artistic  liar,  as  I  knew  all  the 
settlers  up  in  that  part  of  the  country.  Having  in 
earlier  years  made  a  study  of  phrenology,  I  thought  this 
the  proper  time  to  put  some  of  the  principals  I  had 
learned  to  the  test.  I  began  to  make  a  sort  of  mental 
examination  of  the  formation  of  his  cranium  and  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  he  would  violate  at  least  seven 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  153 

of  the  commandments  without  a  second  thought,  and  the 
remaining  three  would  have  to  depend  upon  circum- 
stances for  their  observation.  One  thing  I  found  in  his 
favor  and  that  was  that  he  would  not  commit  murder 
as  the  bump  of  combativeness  was  almost  entirely  lacking 
a  view  which  in  a  very  short  time  proved  to  be  correct, 
for  almost  immediately,  without  any  preliminaries  or 
forewarning,  as  if  by  magic  the  Messiah  Dance  was 
opened,  and  the  man  from  Arkansaw  almost  melted 
away  through  fear. 

As  it  was  now  dark,  I  could  see  plainly  the  move- 
ments of  the  Indians  by  the  glare  of  the  camp  fires 
around  their  teepees.  Their  leader  commenced  intoning 
a  wierd  Hi-Yi-Hi-Oh-Yip-Yip-Hi-Oh,  and  maintained  the 
monotonous  chant  as  an  accompaniment  to  the  tom-tom. 
This  was  kept  up  without  intermission  until  the  first 
set  of  dancers!  became  exhausted.  Then  everything 
became  quiet  once  more.  The  silence  remained  unbroken 
until  the  next  performance  was  ready.  When  the 
recess  had  lasted  about  half  an  hour,  the  signal  was 
given  a  second  time,  and  all  the  dancers,  bucks  and 
squaws,  fell  into  line  and  began  a  performance  which 
resembled  very  much  a  continHiatioin  of  the  old-time 
hop-step.  They  leaped  and  chanted  at  the  same  time. 
The  melody  of  their  song  was  very  much  in  keeping 
with  the  music  of  the  tom-tom,  but  entirely  unlike  any- 
thing I  had  ever  heard,  before  or  since.  Most  of  the 
bucks  were  decorated  with  the  insignia  of  the  rank  they 
held  in  their  respective  tribes,  while  the  remainder  were 
clothed  in  the  regulation  blanket,  moccasins,  and  breach 
clouts.  The  squaws,  like  their  white  sisters,  endeavored 
to  outdo  each  other  in  the  matter  of  fantastic  habili- 
ments. They  wore  no  head  dress,  and  their  hair  was 
done  up  in  the  latest  style.  They  wore  some  splendid 
blankets  which  I  judged  were  of  Navajoe  make,  and 
were  highly  ornamented.  Besides  this  they  wore  mocca- 
sins beaded  in  many  colors,  and  leggings. 

Still  the  dance  went  on  with  the  same  powow,  with 


154  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

no  variation  in  the  music.  It  was  left  for  the  third 
and  final  dance  to  make  the  grand  display  of  the  even- 
ing. When  they  had  enjoyed  the  second  recess  in  sullen 
silence,  they  broke  forth  in  one  grand  effort  to  make 
the  finale  the  piece-de-resistance  of  the  evenings  enter- 
tainment. They  seemed  to  have  restrained  themselves 
for  this  special  production  of  their  hideous  and  welkin- 
splitting  pandemonium.  Everything  they  had  done  in 
the  way  of  cavorting  in  the  complex  measures  of  their 
former  dance,  seemed  to  be  nothing  to  what  was  expected 
of  them  in  the  last  grand  splurge.  Prom  my  own 
observation  of  the  performance  I  should  best  describe 
it  by  saying  that  it  seemed  as  if  the  infernal  regions 
had  been  turned  loose  for  a  holiday.  The  readers 
imagination  will  have  to  picture  what  really  took  place 
in  that  final  orgy  of  riot  and  disorder.  Words  cannot  ade- 
quately describe  it,  and  I  would  be  unwise  to  attempt 
to  do  so.  But  just  to  give  a  faint  idea  of  what  really 
took  place  I  will  say  that  at  a  given  signal  they  all 
fell  into  line  again  as  in  the  previous  performance.  In 
addition  to  their  former  efforts,  they  included  the  call 
or  cry  of  every  bird  or  beast  known  to  them,  from  the 
guttural  growl  of  the  wild  bear  to  the  call  of  the  peewee. 
It  was  all  there  in  one  jumble  of  discordant  sound,  the 
neighing  of  the  horse,  the  roaring  of  the  bull,  the  call 
of  the  bobwhite,  the  barking  of  dogs,  the  howl  of  the 
coyote,  the  call  of  the  peacock,  the  familiar  gobbling 
of  the  wild  turkey,  etc.  This  was  continued  until  they 
dropped  from  sheer  exhaustion.  The  revel  and  riot  was 
at  length  completed  and  silence  reigned  again. 

In  all  my  experience  I  have  never  heard  or  seen 
anything  like  it.  Anything  that  I  had  ever  seen  before 
was  like  a  children's  picnic  when  compared  with  the 
Messiah  Dance.  I  had  read  of  Tarn  O'Shanter  peeping 
through  the  crannies  of  the  Auld  Kirk  of  Alloway,  feast- 
ing his  'eyes  upon  the  dance  of  the  witches,  but  it  was 
not  to  be  compared  with  the  Messiah  Dance,  for  here 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  155 

there  were  real,  live  mortals  enacting  a  dance  that  was 
incomparable  in  its  weird  peculiarities. 

When  the  festivities  had  ceased,  I  asked  my  Arkan- 
saw  guest  what  he  thought  of  it.  He  replied  that  he 
had  just  about  concluded  to  leave  at  once.  "If,"  said 
he,  "they  do  such  things  in  play,  what  would  they  do 
to  us  if  they  took  the  notion  to  put  into  practice  some 
of  the  barbarities  for  which  the  Indian  is  famed."  I 
told  him  to  get  that  notion  out  of  his  head  immediately, 
for,  if  he  did,  the  Indians  would  likely  follow  him  and 
take  his  scalp  for  a  prelude  to  what  they  would  do 
afterwards  to  him.  I  assured  him  that  there  was  some 
security  in  remaining  where  we  were,  but  that  there 
would  be  none  in  leaving,  as  they  would  think  he  was 
afraid  and  then  would  follow  him  with  results  not  to  be 
desired.  After  a  good  deal  of  persuasion,  I  induced  him 
to  share  my  blankets  with  me  and  my  boy,  which  was 
a  great  trial  for  him. 

The  bucks  and  squaws  had,  by  this  time,  retired  to 
their  tents,  and  everything  was  quiet.  The  camp  fires 
were  still  burning  and  lit  up  the  trees  and  shrubbery 
so  plainly  that  one  could  see  each  separate  branch  and 
twig.  The  reflection  of  the  blaze  lit  up  the  little  valley 
in  such  a  way  that  we  seemed  to  be  walled  in  by  a  cordon 
of  liquid  fire. 

As  I  was  fatigued  after  the  day's  journey',  I  turned 
in  like  a  trooper's  horse,  with  my  shoes  on,  to  be  ready 
to  meet  any  emergency  that  might  arise.  As  innocence 
knows  neither  crime,  nor  danger,  Emmet  was  curled  up 
in  sleep  like  a  babe  in  its  mother's  arms.  But  such 
was  not  the  case  of  the  Arkansaw  Traveller.  He  was 
lying  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  "bed,"  next  to  Emmet, 
but  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  was  removed  from  me 
in  that  manner,  I  could  hear  his  heart  beating  so  dis- 
tinctly that  it  seemed  like  the  fluttering  of  a  bird  trying 
to  break  from  its  cage.  For  myself,  I  just  trusted  in 
a  kind  Providence,  and  slept  the  sleep  of  the  weary. 

At  daybreak  we  were  up  and  thankful  that  we  were 


356  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

still  alive.  We  went  about  the  preparation  of  break- 
fast as  though  nothing  unusual  was  taking  place  around 
us.  As  the  weather  looked  as  though  we  would  have 
rain  very  soon,  I  set  about  the  task  of  building  a  teepee, 
as  I  had  no  shelter.  I  intended  to  cover  it  with  a  wagon 
sheet,  as  that  was  the  most  serviceable  for  the  purpose 
of  keeping  us  dry'.  In  the  meantime  Emmet  had  strayed 
off  through  the  trees  and  brush  to  see  what  he  could 
find  in  the  way  of  game.  I  had  just  cut  some  willows 
to  make  the  framework  of  my  teepee,  when  the  boy 
came  running  excitedly  back  to  camp  and  exclaimed, 
"papa,  papa'  come  down  to  the  river  and  see  what  those 
Indians  are  doing!"  As  I  saw  he  was  excited  about 
something,  I  dropped  everything  and  followed  him  to 
the  river  which  was  not  far  from  our  camp.  There  I 
saw  something  that  was  novel  to  me.  There  were  about 
five  hundred  bucks  and  squaws  in  the  water  taking  their 
morning  bath.  They  were  not  in  one  group,  but  were 
separated  about  seventy-five  yards,  bucks  in  one  group 
and  squaws  in  another.  Between  them  was  animaginary 
dead  line  over  which,  by  tribal  custom,  no  young  buck  or 
brave  'had  the  temerity  to  cross.  They  were  splashing 
around  in  the  water  like  nymphs,  disporting  themselves 
after  their  own  fashion.  I  did  not  notice  that  indis- 
pensable attache  of  refined  society,  the  chaperon  domi- 
•neering  over  those  simple,  stainless  daughters  of  the 
plains  to  keep  them  from  drifting  from  the  path  of 
moral  rectitude.  A  native  sense  of  modesty,  as  well  as 
tribal  traditions  dispensed  with  such  a  guardian.  There 
was  no  need  of  one.  There  were  no  ladies  of  high-degree 
lolling  on  benches  on  the  bank,  with  a  broad  brimmed 
hat,  and  all  the  other  follies  that  go  to  make  up  what 
is  called  "style,"  neither  were  there  any  little,  black 
nosed,  red  eyed,  fluffy-haired  dogs  with  expensive  collars 
around  their  necks,  nor  pugs  with  tails  curled  up  so 
tightly  that  it  would  be  almost  impossible  for  their  hind 
legs  to  touch  the  ground.  No,  they  were  not  there, 
neither  were  many  other  devises  that  go  to  improve 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  157 

the  figure  to  make  it  Juno-like,  nor  were  bathing  suits 
in  evidence,  but  in  spite  of  all  that  they  seemed  to  be 
enjoying  the  frolic  in  the  water. 

As  I  had  left  the  kettle  of  beans  simmering  on  the 
fire,  I  had  to  return  and  look  after  them  as  the  mind 
of  the  man  from  Arkansaw  was  too  much  perturbed  to  be 
in  condition  to  mind  anything  so  commonplace  as  beans. 
When  I  reached  my  outfit,  I  was  surprised  to  find  a 
half  dozen  Indian  police  awaiting  me.  They  bore  a 
message  from  the  Indian  agent  stating  that  he  wished 
to  see  me.  As  I  was  rather  anxious  to  depart  from 
that  locality,  I  was  not  long  in  making  the  necessary 
arrangements  to  do  so.  When  I  arrived  at  the  agency, 
I  made  inquiries  of  those  who  were  there  as  to  the 
whereabouts  of  the  agent.  I  was  directed  to  the  office. 
I  entered  and  introduced  myself  and  inquired  what  was 
wanted  of  me.  The  agent,  who  introduced  himself  as 
Boak,  a  very  nice  gentleman,  told  me  that  the  Indians 
were  holding  their  Messiah  Dance  and  did  not  care 
for  the  presence  of  white  folks,  as  witnesses.  As  they 
had  seen  me  begin  to  build  a  teepee  they  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  I  was  going  to  become  a  permanent 
fixture  there,  and  they  requested  the  agent  to  invite  me 
to  choose  another  locality  for  my  habitation.  Of  course, 
he  informed  me  that  I  was  welcome  to  such  hospitality 
as  the  agency  could  furnish.  I  believed  him  and  thanked 
him  for  his  generosity.  I  assured  him  that  it  had  not 
been  my  intention  to  disturb  the  Indians  in  their  religious 
proceedings.  I  did  not  say  anything  about  my  being 
afraid  that  I  would  be  disturbed  by  them.  It  chanced 
that  our  feelings  in  regard  to  the  matter  were  mutual. 
The  more  we  discussed  the  matter,  the  more  he  seemed 
to  insist  upon  my  partaking  of  his  hospitality,  which 
led  me  to  believe  that  he  was  rather  uneasy  on  account 
of  the  Messiah  Dance  and  wanted  not  only  my  company, 
but  whatever  assistance  I  could  give  in  case  the  Indians 
became  threatening.  I  did  not  find  any  fault  with  him 
for  having  that  feeling,  and  it  would  take  a  man  better 


158  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

versed  in  Indian  lore  to  tell  what  was  likely  to  happen 
next. 

As  it  was  getting  along  in  the  forenoon,  and  I  saw 
there  was  no  further  use  in  prolonging  the  interview, 
I  left  the  agency,  went  and  got  my  belongings  and  set 
out  on  my  journey  up  along  the  river.  I  took  the  bottom 
trail  that  wound  a  zig-zag  course  through  the  timber 
My  progress  seemed  to  be  made  through  a  leafy  tunnel. 
The  trees  on  each  side  of  the  trail  were  heavily  leaved, 
and  the  branches  above  reached  across  the  trail,  forming 
a  beautiful  corridor-like  passage.  When  I  had  gone  on 
my  way  for  a  mile  or  more,  I  happened  to  glance  behind 
and  saw  an  Indian  on  a  pony,  with  a  Winchester  across 
his  saddle,  who  seemed  to  be  following  me.I  did  not  like 
the  looks  of  things  just  then.  I  concluded  that  if  the 
Indian  had  any  trouble  he  wanted  to  settle,  the  best 
thing  was  to  have  the  matter  attended  to  without  delay. 
I  drove  on  until  I  came  to  a  rather  lengthy  passage, 
free  from  windings,  and  then  stopped  the  team.  I 
motioned  for  him  to  come  up  to  where  I  was.  He  did  so. 
When  he  arrived,  I  asked  him  in  on  uncertain  tone  of 
voice  what  he  wanted?  He  uttered  but  one  word, 
"tobac."  I  had  about  half  a  sack  of  Duke's  Mixture 
which  I  handed  to  him.  He  took  it  hastily,  turned  his 
horse  around  and  plunged  into  the  brush  at  the  side  of 
the  trail,  and  that  was  the  last  that  I  saw  of  him.  I 
found  it  hard  to  reconcile  myself  to  the  belief  that  it 
was  tobacco  alone  that  he  was  wanting. 

The  rain  had  begun  falling  in  the  meantime,  and  to 
say  that  it  was  merely  raining  will  not  convey  the 
proper  idea  to  the  mind.  It  poured  in  torrents,  and  con- 
tinued to  do  so  all  day  long.  About  noon  we  stopped  and 
tried  to  make  some  coffee  for  dinner,  but  it  was  no  use. 
We  set  out  again  and  plodded  along  in  the  deluge  until 
late  in  the  afternoon.  I  was  continually  on  the  look-out 
for  some  sort  of  shelter,  and  my  sight  was  at  last  grat- 
ified by  observing  at  some  distance  from  the  river,  a 
stockade  building.  I  set  off  in  the  direction  of  the 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  159 

expected  shelter,  and  when  I  reached  it,  found  that  it 
had  a  good  dirt-roof,  but  no  windows  nor  doors.  It  was 
what  is  called  a  wind-break  and  I  determined  to  pre- 
empt it  for  the  night.  I  knew  it  belonged  to  some 
Indian,  but  as  he  was  likely  off  to  theMessiah  Dance,  he 
would  not  return  just  then,  and  even  if  he  did,  I  would 
try  to  make  him  as  comfortable  as  circumstances  would 
permit,  divide  my  chuckaway  with  him,  even  go  so  far 
as  to  share  my  blanket  with  him,  but  as  for  deserting 
that  shelter  just  then,  it  was  not  to  be  thought  of.  If 
he  were  to  become  hostile  and  wanted  to  fight,  I  would 
accomodate  his  longing  as  there  would  be  little  or  no 
chance  to  seek  safety  in  flight.  I  made  preparations  to 
cook  some  supper,  and  Emmet  attended  to  the  horses, 
hobbled  them  and  turned  them  loose  to  graze.  In  the 
meanwhile,  I  must  not  forget  to  say  that  Arkansaw  had 
been  following  me  like  a  shadow  ever  since  I  left  the 
agency.  To  see  him  as  he  was  then  in  his  bedraggled 
condition,  with  his  ramshackle  outfit,  one  would  think 
that  the  genius  of  famine  and  desolation  had  descended 
upon  the  land.  I  carried  the  chuck-box,  bedding,  guns, 
and  utensils  into  the  shelter  preparatory  to  getting  things 
ready  for  supper  and  bed.  I  enlisted  the  services  of 
Arkansaw  to  gather  some  wood  to  build  a  fire,  and  I 
must  say  as  a  hauler  of  wood  he  was  a  dismal  failure. 
However,  we  finally  managed  to  get  a  fire  started  and  set 
in  to  dry  our  clothes,  bedding,  'etc.,  along  with  getting 
something  to  eat.  We  were  all  ravenously  hungry,  and 
the  flap-jacks  disappeared  with  wonderful  alacrity. 
"When  our  appetites  had  been  satisfied,  things  did  not 
look  so  bad  to  us.  It  was  not  the  most  comfortable 
place  to  spend  the  night,  but  it  was  far  better  than  the 
rain  soaked  ground.  To  add  to  our  discomfort,  it  began 
to  turn  cold.  We  crawled  under  the  partially  dried 
blankets  in  the  hope  that  wearied  nature  would  provide 
a  good  sound  sleep.  As  we  were  not  distracted  by  such 
howling  and  yelling  as  we  had  endured  the  night  before, 
things  would  have  been  favorable  for  a  good  night's 


160  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

rest.  But  I  cannot  say  there  was  much  prospect  for  a 
refreshing  sleep  as  it  is  one  thing  to  find  repose  under 
dry  blankets,  and  another  to  seek  the  same  balm  i'or  a 
wearied  body  under  bedding  that  has  been  exposed  to 
a  downpour  of  rain  for  hours.  No,  it  was  not  going  to 
rest,  it  was  just  lying  down  for  want  of  something  else 
to  do.  I  noticed  that  the  heart  of  the  Arkansaw  Trav- 
eller did  not  beat  as  loudly  as  on  the  preceding  night, 
and  it  was  not  long  until  he  began  to  snore  with  all 
the  variations  of  a  steam  calliope.  I  was  glad  to  know 
that  he  at  least  could  find  sleep  under  such  conditions, 
but  for  me,  there  was  not  much  comfort.  I  thought  that 
by  this  time  my  fellow  traveller  was  over  his  scare,  but 
in  the  midst  of  his  dreams  he  let  a  yell  out  of  him  and 
exclaimed,  "Let  up  on  that,  you  can't  scalp  me,  I'm  from 
Arkansaw."  I  reached  over  and  gave  him  a  poke  in  the 
side  and  told  him  that  it  made  no  difference  whether  he 
was  from  Arkansaw  or  New  Jersey,  that  he  would  be 
scalp-ed  unless  he  was  ready  to  put  up  a  pretty  stiff  fight. 
When  we  rolled  out  shivering  in  the  morning,  we  found 
that  it  had  frozen  during  the  night.  We  welcomed  the 
coming  of  the  dawn,  as  the  night  had  been  one  continual 
toss  from  one  side  to  the  other,  and  no  comfort  was 
found.  I  arose  and  shook  myself  to  see  if  I  were  all 
there,  and  found  myself  intact.  The  others  followed  my 
example  with  the  same  results.  I  stepped  outside  to 
see  how  the  horses  were  faring  and  found  they  had 
wandered  off.  I  left  word  for  Arkansaw  to  prepare 
something  to  eat  and  went  off  in  search  of  the  ponies. 
I  had  a  rather  good  idea  of  where  they  had  gone,  and 
after  walking  about  a  mile  I  found  them.  They  were 
huddled  together  for  warmth.  Their  hobbles  were  frozen 
stiff.  I  removed  the  frozen  hobble  from  one  of  them, 
mounted  him,  and  drove  the  others  back  to  camp.  When 
I  returned  to  the  shelter,  breakfast  was  ready  and  soon 
attended  to.  I  gathered  up  my  belongings  once  more 
and  we  set  out  again.  It  was  a  beautiful  morning  and 
the  sun  seemed  to  be  trying  to  compensate  us  for  the 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  161 

hardship  we  had  endured  during  the  night.  The  horses 
seemed  anxious  to  go,  and  their  speed  shortened  the  time 
of  our  journey  considerably.  We  rode  on  for  about  ten 
or  twelve  miles,  when  we  came  to  a  beautiful  grazing 
ground  sheltered  by  a  sand  hill.  With  such  a  fine  loca- 
tion I  decided  that  this  was  a  good  opportunity  to  spread 
out  the  bedding  to  dry,  and  attend  to  our  other  wants. 
It  seemed  as  if  we  were  always  hungry,  and  when  a 
fine  opportunity  presented  itself  for  preparing  a  repast, 
we  simply  had  to  yield  to  the  occasion.  I  set  Emmet  and 
Arkansaw  to  cooking,  while  I  attended  to  the  horses. 
I  then  took  a  ramble  around  for  1  had  seen  where  there 
was  evidence  of  a  flock  of  wild  turkeys  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. It  was  no  great  difficulty  to  follow  their  trail 
in  the  soft  earth,  and  I  soon  happened  upon  a  flock  of 
forty  or  fifty  feeding  on  the  heads  of  wild  rye  that  was 
growing  in  a  sort  of  pocket  formed  by  the  hill.  I  took 
in  my  surroundings  at  a  glance,  and  to  my  agreeable 
surprise  I  saw  a  deer  about  two  hundred  yards  away 
nibbling  at  the  leaves  of  a  shin  oak.  I  determined  to 
take  a  chance  with  the  deer  first.  I  took  careful  aim 
and  fired.  My  shot  was  not  true,  but  I  succeeded  in 
breaking  his  hind  leg.  He  did  not  seem  to  realize  where 
the  shot  came  from,  and  turned  and  came  straight  for 
me.  I  will  admit  that  his  advance  upon  me  was  dis- 
concerting as  it  was  so  unusual.  I  waited  until  'he  had 
come  within  about  twenty  yards  from  me,  and  fire^l 
again.  The  bullet  struck  within  about  six!  inches  of 
where  I  was  aiming,  which  showed  that  I  was  influenced 
by  what  is  called  "buck  fever."  While  all  this  was 
taking  place,  the  turkeys  had  flown  off  over  the  hill. 
I  followed  them,  knowing  that  they  would  not  be  far 
away.  I  came  upon  them.  They  were  all  huddled  to- 
gether in  one  dense  mass.  I  sent  a  bullet  into  the  midst 
of  them  and  succeeded  in  killing  two  of  them.  The 
others  flew  away,  and  I  knew  by  their  flight  that  more 
of  them  had  been  hit.  I  gathered  up  the  two  that  I 
had  brought  down  and  took  them  back  to  where  the 


162  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

deer  was  lying.  I  found  that  I  had  carried  them  about 
as  far  as  I  cared  to,  and  went  off  to  get  some  dinner, 
intending  to  have  Emmet  saddle  up  his  pony  and  bring 
them  in  later.  I  accompanied  him  as  he  was  too  young 
to  attend  to  the  matter  alone.  I  hung  the  turkeys  on 
the  saddle  horn,  and  the  pony  seemed  to  object  as  he 
bucked  considerably.  He  did  not  take  kindly  to  drag 
ging  the  deer  after  him  and  showed  his  displeasure  by 
performing  such  gyrations  as  only  a  Texas  cow  pony 
can  accomplish.  However,  we  succeeded  in  persuading 
him  to  perform  the  task  and  set  out  for  camp.  When 
we  had  returned  to  our  outfit,  and  I  had  begun  to  dress 
the  deer,  Arkansaw  came  to  me  in  an  apparent  state  of 
trepidation  and  told  me  that,  during  my  absence,  a  band 
of  Indians,  seven  in  number  had  called  at  the  camp  and 
left  word  for  me  to  leave  the  reservation.  To  be  sure  that 
I  understood  him  aright,  I  asked,  'how  many?'  "Seven" 
said  he.  I  asked  him  if  they  were  all  on  horseback  and 
he  said  that  they  were,  that  one  of  them  wore  a  war- 
bonnet.  I  made  no  reply  to  this,  but  when  I  had  com- 
pleted the  task  of  dressing  the  deer  and  turkeys,  I  made 
a  circle  around  the  camp,  about  fifty  yards  out,  and 
found  no  traces  of  any  Indians  being  there.  When  I 
returned  to  the  camp,  I  felt  satisfied  that  Arkansaw 
was  about  the  most  artistic  and  monumental  liar  west 
of  the  Mississippi.  I  then  knew  that  he  was  still 
frightened  and  wanted  to  get  as  far  away  from  there 
as  he  could  and  that  as  soon  as  possible.  He  was  afraid 
to  go  alone  and  originated  the  tale  to  induce  me  to  set 
out  at  once.  I  did  not  tell  him  what  I  thought  of  the 
originality'  of  design  he  manifested,  but  if  he  had  an 
ounce  of  judgment  he  would  have  seen  that  I  would 
easily  detect  his  falsehood  as  my  horses  were  all  shod, 
and  I  could  easily  detect  the  marks  of  the  unshod  Indian 
ponies  in  the  soft  earth  if  they  had  been  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. I  did  not  make  any  preparations  to  depart 
immediately,  but  left  Emmet  and  Arkansaw  to  look  after 
the  things  about  the  camp,  and  set  out  again  to  secure 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  163 

more  game  if  possible.  It  was  with  reluctance  that  my 
brave?  friend  consented  to  do  such  a  little  thing  as 
greasing  the  buekboard,  as  he  felt  there  was  grave 
danger  in  delaying  there  any  longer.  Before  leaving  I 
informed  him  that  I  was  thinking  of  departing  next 
morning,  but  if  any  more  Indians  appeared  on  the  scene 
while  I  was  gone,  to  inform  them  that  I  was  not  in  a 
hurry  to  leave  those  parts,  and,  furthermore,  if  they 
were  looking  for  trouble,  I  was  there  to  accommodate 
them. 

The  absence  of  danger  is  sometimes  a  great  stimulus 
to  a  man's  courage,  and  I  felt  that  there  was  no  peril 
in  store  for  us  as  it  was  most  likely  that  there  was  not 
an  Indian  within  fifteen  miles  of  us,  and,  besides  I  wanted 
to  scare  the  Arkansaw  Traveller  properly. 

I  took  my  gun  and  sauntered  off  over  the  hill,  enjoy- 
ing the  walk  after  being  cramped  up  in  the  buckboard. 
I  could  have  killed  several  turkeys,  but  preferred  to  get 
another  deer  if  possible.  In  my  meanderings  I  came 
upon  an  Indian  grave.  He  had  been  laid  to  rest  upon 
a  platform,  rolled  in  his  blanket  and  wrapped  in  an 
outer  covering  of  bark.  I  must  confess  that  I  had  an 
uncanny  fe'eling  as  I  approached  the  last  resting  place  of 
that  noble  red  man,  but  it  was  a  sensation  entirely 
different  to  the  ones  I  had  experienced  in  meeting  some 
of  them  in  the  flesh.  However,  since  he  was  there  and 
I  was  close  by,  I  thought  it  a  good  opportunity*  to 
satisfy  my  curiosity  about  their  customs  of  burial.  I 
approached  him  with  about  as  much  alacrity  as  one 
would  expect  u&der  jthe  circumstances.  I  found  the 
blanket  in  which  he  was  rolled,  incrusted  with  sand  that 
had  blown  upon  it  from  the  neighborhood.  It  was  rotten 
from  long  exposure  to  the  elements  and  had  about  the 
same  consistency  as  paper.  I  turned  back  one  corner  to 
get  a  view  of  the  condition  of  the  remains.  The  flesh 
had  disappeared,  the  long  braided  hair  was  there,  but 
from  its  appearance  I  could  not  tell  whether  he  had  been 
there  thirty  days,  or  three  years.  It  had  a  gloss  to  it 


164  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

that  seemed  to  indicate  that  his  burial  took  place 
recently.  I  turned  back  the  blanket  and  left  him  as  I 
found  him.  I  retraced  my  steps  towards  camp,  as  I  was 
beginning  to  have  another  attack  of  what  usually  ailed 
me,  hunger.  On  my  way,  I  discovered  another  deer  near 
the  place  where  I  had  killed  the  first  one,  and  was  able 
to  bring  him  down  at  the  first  shot.  I  left  him  where 
he  fell  and  went  back  to  where  Emmet  and  Arkansaw 
were  whiling  away  the  time  making  ready  for  the  next 
lap  of  our  journey.  I  sent  the  boy  back  with  the  pony 
to  bring  in  the  game. 

While  we  were  alone,  Arkansaw,  while  watching  me 
get  supper,  grew  confidential.  He  told  me  about  leaving 
his  native  state,  and  how  he  had  traded  coonskins  for 
the  gun  with  the  remarkable  action.  I  asked  him  why 
he  did  not  use  it  when  an  occasion  presented  itself  for 
bagging  a  few  turkeys.  He  replied  that  he  was  rather 
afraid  to  shoot  the  weapon,  as,  just  before  leaving  his 
home,  he  was  short  of  ammunition  and  had  no  oppor- 
tunity of  procuring  any.  Besides  that,  one  of  his  neigh- 
bors told  him  that  he  would  be  likely  to  meet  some  bad 
men  on  the  way  to  the  Territory,  and  advised  him  to 
put  a  plow  bolt  down  the  barrel  to  keep  the  load  that 
was  in  it  from  getting  damp.  He  said  that  he  was  afraid 
the  bolt  had  rusted  in  the  barrel  and  consequently  he 
had  not  the  courage  to  fire  the  gun.  Just  to  add  to  his 
pleasurable  feelings  at  that  moment,  I  thought  I  would 
give  him  some  of  his  own  coin  and  told  him  that  I  had 
seen  an  Indian  on  my  travels,  who  was  dressed  differently 
from  those  we  had  seen  at  the  Messiah  Dance,  and  that 
there  were  likely  more  in  the  neighborhood.  I  warned 
him  to  prepare  for  an  emergency  by  getting  that  gun 
into  working  shape.  I  advised  him  to  pour  bacon  grease 
into  the  lock  and  try  to  get  it  into  working  order,  for 
if  those  Indians  he  saw  would  return,  there  would  be 
some  moments  of  activity  around  that  neck  of  the  woods. 
As  Emmet  had  by  this  time  arrived  with  the  deer,  I  set 
to  work  to  dress  it  and  put  things  in  shape  for  our 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  165 

departure  in  the  morning.  To  have  some  more  sport 
with  Arkansaw  I  tried  to  get  him  to  stand  guard  during 
the  night.  I  told  him  that  now  that  his  gun  was  in 
good  shape  he  would  be  in  a  position  to  protect  himself, 
and  at  the  same  time  warn  us  of  the  approach  of  Indians. 
He  tried  for  a  while,  but  I  could  see  that  he  was  suffer- 
ing agony  untold  on  account  of  his  fear  of  an  attack. 
The  rustling  of  a  leaf  caused  him  to  tremble,  and  any 
louder  noise  made  him  jump.  It  is  a  wonder  that  in  his 
excitement  he  did  not  turn  loose  with  the  old  gun,  but  I 
suppose  he  forgot  all  about  it.  I  took  pity  on  him  and 
told  him  to  lie  down,  that  there  was  little  or  no  danger. 
He  gladly  sought  the  shelter  of  the  blanket  and  was  soon 
giving  me  selections  on  the  calliope.  Next  morning  we 
still  found  ourselves  in  possession  of  our  scalps,  and  felt 
much  refreshed  after  the  good  night's  rest.  We  gave 
the  usual  attention  to  breakfast,  which  did  not  take 
long.  We  were  about  ready  to  start,  except  for  one 
thing.  I  did  not  like  the  idea  of  Arkansaw  carrying 
that  old  gun  around  with  him,  especially  since  I  learned 
that  it  was  loaded  with  a  plow  bolt.  I  tried  to  get  him 
to  fire  it  off  as  the  jarring  of  his  old  wagon  or  some 
other  concussion  might  explode  it  and  kill  some  person, 
or  injure  some  of  the  horses.  To  rid  myself  of  the 
danger,  I  agreed  to  fire  it  for  him,  to  which  he  readily 
consented.  I  took  the  gun  and  tied  it  to  a  tree,  fastened 
a  rope  to  the  trigger  and  when  all  preparations  for  our 
farewell  salute  were  made,  I  pulled  the  trigger.  The 
old  gun  went  off  in  two  different  directions.  The  barrel 
went  forward,  and  the  recoil  kicked  the  old  stock  back- 
wards about  five  feet  and  it  stuck  fast  in  the  sand. 
Right  there  my  worry  about  the  old  gun  terminated. 

With  our  game  packed  on  the  buckboard  and 
covered  with  the]  wagon  sheet  to  keep  off  the  sand 
which  was  blowing  plentifully  at  the  time,  we  started 
for  Timms  City.  Th'e  horses  were  fresh  and  the  trails 
in  good  condition,  and  we  advanced  rapidly.  My  only 
trouble  was  to  keep  Arkansaw  and  his  festive  steeds  out 


166  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

of  the  way,  as  he  was  determined  to  put  as  much  distance 
between  iiim  and  the  scene  of  his  fright  as  possible.  At 
times  he  had  his  poor  old  nags  on  the  gallop.  Such  a 
pace  they  could  not  maintain,  and  about  noon  time  they 
gave  out.  We  stopped  for  refreshments.  When  we 
were  ready  to  set  out  again,  I  pointed  out  the  way  to 
Sod  Town  in  No-Man's  Land  and  left  him.  When  I 
parted  company  with  him  I  felt  that  I  had  met  one  of 
the  strangest  characters  I  had  ever  encountered  in  all 
my  days.  I  reached  home  the  same  night.  In  conclu- 
sion of  this  article  I  wish  to  say  that  I  have  never  had 
another  hankering  to  attend  a  Messiah  Dance. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Conditions  Prior  to  the  Indian  Raids;  The  Frontier  Line; 

Savages  on  the  Warpath;  Ouster's  Fate;  General 

Forsythe's  Predicament. 

Before  setting  down  the  narrative  of  the  Dull  Knife 
Raid,  or  any  other,  it  is  not  amiss  to  relate  something 
of  the  conditions  that  prevailed  prior  to  those  events. 

In  1878,  and  for  ten  years  prior  to  that  time,  the 
most  of  the  plain  Indians  had  been  on  the  war-path  for 
some  reason  or  another.  To  give  an  idea  of  the  size  of 
the  country  which  was  the  scene  of  their  endeavors,  it 
is  well  to  outline  the  frontier  as  it  existed  then.  Civili- 
zation was  supposed  to  have  terminated  its  advance  at 
the  Saline,  Solomon  and  Cottonwood  rivers,  though  a 
few  straggling  settlers  had  established  themselves  on  the 
Little  Walnut,  and  White  rivers,  with  a  colony  at  Council 
Grove.  Beyond  that  line  the  domination  of  the  white 
man  was  supposed  to  cease,  and  it  was  not  the  Indian's 
fault  that  it  did  not.  He  did  his  best  to  have  it  do  so. 
but  the  result  was  far  from  successful  from  his  point 
of  view  Bey'ond  the  line  above  mentioned  there  existed 
only  the  Indian,  the  buffalo  and  a  few  venturesome  spirits 
who  formed  the  trains  that  forced  their  way  overland 
to  Colorado  and  the  Black  Hills,  or  endured  the  more 
hazardous  undertaking  of  making  the  long  march  to 
California  in  1849.  They  were,  indeed,  venturesome,  for 
to  undertake  such  a  trip,  one  took  his  life  in  his  hands, 
and  the  result  was  that  many  of  them  paid  the  penalty 
for  their  daring.  Not  only  were  they  harassed  by  the 
Indian  tribes  they  encountered  on  their  way,  but  priva- 
tions beset  them  on  all  sides  and  starvation  often  traveled 
with  them  to  their  sorrow.  At  any  moment  such  a  wagon 
train  as  they  conducted  was  liable  to  attack  from  savage 


168  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

bands,  and  there  then  occurred  a  fight  for  life.  Nor 
were  all  those  attacks  engineered  by  the  Indian  alone. 
The  Mormans  did  their  share  of  the  dastardly  work 
under  the  guise  of  the  Indian.  This  statement  may 
appear  a  trifle  strong,  but  it  is  proved  beyond  all  doubt 
that  John  D.  Lee  with  a  gang  of  cut-throats  perpetrated 
the  Mountain  Meadow  massacre,  with  all  the  ferocity 
and  butchery  of  the  most  savage  of  tribesmen.  He  did 
his  work  too  well,  and  endeavored  to  cover  up  his  tracks 
by  making  it  appear  that  it  was  the  work  of  the  Indian. 
He  not  only  murdered  the  members  of  the  train,  but 
mutilated  the  dead  bodies  of  the  slain  after  the  fashion 
of  the  Indian.  He  and  his  accomplices  then  looted  the 
train,  and  what  they  could  not  carry  away,  they  de- 
stroyed. The  world  was  well  rid  of  such  a  man  when 
he  was  shot  off  his  own  coffin  lid  to  pay  the  penalty 
of  his  crimes,  though  in  his  death  he  did  not  make  com- 
pensation for  one  per  cent  of  all  the  butcheries  he  had 
committed.  To  return  to  the  thread  of  the  narrative, 
all  that  scope  of  country  lying  between  the  western 
boundary  of  settlement  and  the  foot  hills  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  was  estimated  by  competent  judges  to  contain 
about  fifteen  hundred  square  miles  of  territory.  It  was 
the  grazing  ground  in  1870  for  about  three  million  buf 
falo.  The  fighting  forces  of  the  Indians  roaming  that 
huge  tract  of  country  at  the  time  was  approximately 
six  thousand,  five  hundred  men  of  different  tribes,  not 
to  say  anything  about  the  number  of  squaws  who  fol 
lowed  in  their  wake  dealing  death  to  the  cripples  and 
mutilating  the  dead.  At  that  time,  each  lodge  had  on 
an  average  of  about  125  or  150  ponies  for  use  in  their 
raids.  Taking  all  these  things  into  consideration,  one 
must  come  to  the  conclusion  that  there  was  a  formidable 
force  to  contend  with,  especially  as  the  Indian  mode  of 
fighting  was  not  governed  by  the  laws  of  civilized  war- 
fare. To  protect  the  settlers  from  the  destructive  raids 
of  these  tribes,  the  Government  had  erected  a  line  of 
forts  manned  with  an  insufficient  force  for  the  work  at 


OK  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  169 

hand.  The  list  of  such  forts  comprised,  Ft.  Hays,  Ft. 
Wallace,  Ft.  Harker,  Ft.  Larned,  Ft.  Dodge,  Camp  Sup- 
ply, and  Ft.  Elliot.  As  I  said,  they  were  poorly  garri- 
soned, as  the  best  men  they  had,  had  been  called  away 
to  fill  vacancies  in  the  regiments  used  in  the  Civil  war, 
and  their  places  were  supplied  by  raw  recruits,  or  old 
soldiers  who  had  re-enlisted  for  want  of  something  else 
to  do.  To  add  to  their  inefficiency  in  Indian  warfare, 
they  knew  nothing  of  the  topography  of  the  country  in 
which  they  were  expected  to  serve.  One  can  imagine 
what  a  predicament  they  would  be  in  on  the  first  occa- 
sion of  their  engagement  with  the  natives  of  the  plains, 
and  an  example  will  be  shown  presently.  I  do  not  wish 
my  reader  to  think  for  a  moment  that  I  want  to  say 
anything  derogatory'  of  the  valor  of  the  American  sol- 
dier. His  reputation  for  bravery  established  on  scores 
of  battle  fields,  is  too  well  founded  to  be  shaken  by 
anything  I  might  say  to  the  contrary.  But  this  I  will 
venture  to  state,  namely,  that  when  he  came  face  to  face 
with  the  Indian  mode  of  warfare  in  a  country  of  which 
he  knew  practically  nothing,  he  was  confronted  by  a  set 
of  circumstances  over  which  he  had  no  control,  and  all 
the  military  training  of  former  years  was  of  little  value 
to  him.  This  is  true  both  of  officers  and'  privates. 
Bitter  experience  has  proved  that  both  officials  and  men 
in  the  ranks  were  in  the  same  predicament  as  regards 
the  best  mode  of  meeting  the  wily  Indian  on  his  own 
ground.  To  give  the  proof  of  this  assertion  I  shall 
mention  two  cases,  one  briefly  and  the  other  at  greater 
length,  to  bring  into  full  view  what  these  men  had  to 
contend  against. 

In  the  first  case,  the  disaster  to  Gen.  Custer  proves 
the  correctness  of  my  contention.  Gen.  Custer  was  a 
man  with  a  national  reputation  for  valor  and  military 
experience,  yet  he  allowed  that  wily  old  Indian  chief, 
Sitting  Bull,  to  inveigle  him  into  following  him  and  his 
band  into  the  valley  of  the  Little  Big  Horn  where  he 
turned  upon  him  with  all  the  savagery  of  which  the 


170  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

Indian  nature  is  capable,  and  not  only  defeated,  but 
totally  annihilated  'his  command.  No,  not  a  living  man 
was  left  to  tell  the  tale  of  the  disaster. 

In  the  second  case  which  I  will  present  to  the  reader, 
I  shall  show  not  only  the  inefficiency  of  a  man  trained 
in  any  other  school  than  that  of  the  " plains,"  to  fight 
the  Red  Man  on  his  native  heath,  but  will  bring  out 
some  of  the  characteristics  of  the  Indian's  mode  of 
procedure. 

Gen.  G.  A.  Forsythe  was  the  man  whose  military 
reputation  as  a  commander  was  second  to  none  in  the 
service  of  Uncle  Sam,  a  man  in  whom  Gen.  Phil.  Sheridan 
placed  the  greatest  confidence,  a  man  with  whom  the 
same  Gen.  Sheridan  took  counsel  in  any  matter  requiring 
military  strategy.  To  show  the  General's  esteem  of  this 
man's  skill,  and  at  the  same  time  show  his  appreciation 
of  his  worth,  Sheridan  took  him  with  him  to  Germany 
to  view  the  manoeuvres  of  the  Franco-Prussian  war. 
The  above  will  give  the  reader  an  indication  of  the 
character  of  the  man  who  met  with  so  much  ill  success 
when  fighting  the  Indians. 

In  1868  Gen  G.  A.  Forsythe  was  located  temporarily 
at  Ft.  Wallace,  having  gone  to  that  point  for  supplies. 
While  there,  daily  reports  were  brought  to  him  of  the 
numerous  depredations  committed  by  the  Indians  along 
the  railroads.  The  last  report  to  reach  him  brought  the 
unpleasant  announcement  that  two  freighters  had  been 
murdered  and  their  stock  driven  off.  This  was  too 
much.  The  Indian  seemed  to  be  committing  all  manner 
of  misdeeds  with  seeming  impunity,  and  he  decided  that 
he  must  put  an  end  to  such  a  state  of  things  and  at  the 
same  time  punish  the  guilty  ones  for  past  misconduct. 
With  this  purpose  in  view,  he  gained  permission  from 
Gen.  Sheridan  to  organize  an  expedition  against  them. 
The  license  was  granted  and  with  forty-seven  scouts, 
among  whom  was  Surgeon  Moore  and  Lieut.  Beecher, 

he  set  out  about  the  tenth  of  the  month  of ,  in 

a  north-westerly  direction  to  overtake  the  savages.  In 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  171 

the  inception  of  this  expedition  he  made  one  grave  mis- 
take for  which  he  paid  dearly  in  the  near  future.     He 
took  along  provisions  for  only  ten  days,  on  pack  mules. 
He  had  no  ambulances,  nor  wagons.     In  the  case  of  an 
engagement  he  did  not  have  men  enough,  nor  sufficient 
quantity  of  supplies,  to  meet  the  requirements  of  a  cattle 
round-up,  much  less  an  undertaking  of  the  kind  he  had 
in  view.     He  set  forth  in  high  spirits,  for  he  did  not 
realize  the  magnitude  of  the  undertaking  he  had  mapped 
out  for  himself,  nor  the  danger  into  which  he  was  rush- 
ing.    The  weather  was  favorable  and  the  country  rath'er 
level,  so  there  was  nothing  to  impede  his  rapid  progress, 
On  the  fifth  day  out,  some  of  the  scouts  discovered  a 
few   Indians.     Their  trail  was   picked  up   and  as  they 
progressed  it  became  plainer,  which  showed  that  they 
were  nearing  the  vicinity  of  the  foe.     On  the  fifth  even- 
ing out,  they  went  into  camp  in  a  small  valley  in  the 
northwest  corner  of  the   state  of  Kansas,   and  not  far 
from  the  eastern  line  of  Colorado,  just  where  a  small 
stream    called   theArickaree    flows   into/  the    Republican 
river.     In  that  little  stream  was  a  small  island  covered 
with  scrubby  timber.     It  could  not  be  exactly  called  an 
island,  as  the  water  flowed  on  one  side  of  it  only,  and 
at  a  depth  of  only  about  a  foot,  while  the  other  channel 
was    absolutely   dry   and   filled   with    coarse    grass    and 
brush.     As  they  were   all  weary  with   the  long  march 
already  made,  they  lay  down  in  their  blankets  to  secure 
a  good  rest,  little  thinking  what  the  next  day  had  in 
store  for  them.     About  daylight,  the  next  morning,  some 
of  the  scouts  heard  a  commotion  among  the  horses  and 
jumped  up  to  see  what  was  wrong.     They   discovered 
the  Indians  in  the  act  of  endeavoring  to  stampede  the 
horses,  and  they  gave  the  alarm.     As  soon  as  the  scouts 
saw  the  situation,  they  opened  fire  upon  the  redskins 
and  drove  them  away.     The  shooting  was  a  signal  for 
all  to  rise.     They  realized  that  danger  was  near,   and 
they  did  not  have  long  to  wait  until  it   was  present. 
In  less  than  an  hour's  time,  between  five  and  six  hun- 


172  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

dred  Chyenne  warriors  appeared  on  the  hill  side,  painted 
and  decked  out  in  all  the  p<araphrenalia  of  a  full-fledged 
war  party  under  the  leadership  of  Roman  Nose  who  -it 
that  time  was  the  Bonoparte  of  the  Chyenne  tribe. 

It  seems  that  the  Indians,  had  been  keeping  close 
watch  on  the  movements  of  the  little  parties  of  scouts, 
and  as  they  were  now  about  eighty  or  a  hundred  miles 
from  their  base  of  supplies,  thought  that  if  they  could 
stampede  the  horses,  they  would  be  able  to  secure  the 
band  as  an  easy  prey.  When  they  failed  to  make  way 
with  the  horses  and  mules,  their  next  move  was  to  open 
fire  upon  the  men,  which  they  did  without  delay.  This 
turn  of  affairs  was  so  sudden  and  unexpected  that  the 
General  seemed  to  lose  his  head,  and  stood  there  in  pro- 
found amazement.  While  the  General  was  in  this  state 
of  uncertainty  as  to  what  to  do,  with  his  men  exposed 
to  the  Indian  fire,  Jack  Stillwell,  a  boy  of  nineteen,  with- 
out any  regard  for  formality  of  ceremony,  yelled  out, 
' '  Why  in  blazes  don 't  you  go  over  on  that  island  1 ' '  The 
General  took  the  advice  so  freely  and  informally  given 
by  his  subordinate,  and  all  broke  on  the  run  for  the 
shelter  of  the  pseudo-island.  They  arrived  there,  but  not 
before  several  of  them,  were  wounded  in  the  dash  in 
which  several  of  the  horses  were  killed,  or  crippled.  The 
scouts  utilized  the  dead  horses  as  breastworks  and  poured 
such  a  hot  fire  into  the  Indians  that  they  withdrew  to 
the  shelter  of  the  hills.  The  scouts  employed  their  time 
in  digging  rifle  pits,  as  they  were  sure  that  the  Indians 
were  not  going  to  give  up  the  fray  without  another  ef- 
fort to  wipe  out  the  little  band.  It  was  only  a  very 
short  time  until  the  Indians  were  seen  coming  down  the 
hillside  with  intensified  ferocity  due  to  their  first  repulse, 
howling  warwhoops  from  six  hundred  lusty,  savage 
throats,  and  adding  to  the  din  by  beating  tomtoms.  It 
was  a  sight  to  send  a  chill  to  the  stoutest  heart  to  see 
them  wildly  flinging  their  arms  in  the  air  to  the  accom- 
paniment of  their  thunderous  yells,  the  rumbling  of  the 
flying  horses  as  they  descended  upon  the  little  band,  in 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  173 

their  mad  career.  At  their  head  rode  Roman  Nose  en- 
couraging his  followers  and  urging  them  on  to  deeds  of 
valor  with  shout  and  gesture.  One  may  imagine  the 
chill  that  crept  over  many  a  heart  at  such  a  terrifying 
spectacle,  but  it  was  not  time  to  show  the  white  feather, 
as  they  could  expect  no  quarter  from  the  blood-thirsty 
band  coming  upon  them  with  all  the  intensity  of  a  whirl- 
wind of  fury.  When  the  Indians  were  within  rifle  shot, 
the  scouts  opened  upon  them  with  a  fusilade  of  bullets, 
with  deadly  effect.  Many  a  horse  was  tumbled  to  the 
earth  and  many  an  Indian  bit  the  dust,  either  entirely 
killed,  or  mortally  wounded.  The  savages  returned  the 
fire  with  but  little  effect  as  the  scouts  were  entrenched 
behind  the  dead  horses,  or  in  their  rifle  pits.  On  they 
came  undaunted  by  the  first  shock  of  battle.  They  ad- 
vanced almost  to  the  bank  of  the  little  stream  that 
flowed  between  the  half-island  and  the  main  land.  There 
Roman  N.ose  was  seen  to  reel  and  fall  from  his  saddle, 
shot  through  his  body.  Another  chieftain,  I  shall  not 
say  more  daring  than  the  others,  but  more  favored  by 
good  luck,  succeeded  in  fording  the  little  stream  and 
advanced  to  the  very  bank  of  the  sand  bar,  or  island, 
before  he  fell  riddled  by  the  bullets  of  the  desperate 
little  band.  The  continuous  fusilade  of  bullets  poured 
into  the  serried  ranks  of  the  Indians  at  such  close  range, 
together  with  the  loss  of  their  leaders  impelled  the  sav- 
ages to  retreat  to  the  hills  once  more.  This  they  did 
accompanied  by  a  shower  of  bullets  that  emptied  many 
a  saddle  before  the  retreating  savages  were  out  of  dan- 
ger. They  disappeared  behind  the  hills,  but  not  with 
the  intention  of  giving  up  the  fight,  as  they  considered 
their  plans  for  massacreing  the  little  band  to  be  too  well 
laid  to  be  set  aside  on  account  of  the  two  repulses  they 
had  already  received.  They  waited  till  afternoon  to 
make  a  third  and  final  assault  upon  the  island.  On  they 
came  again,  but  with  the  same  result  as 'before.  They 
were  driven  back  before  the  galling  fire  of  the  besieged. 
Determined  to  continue  the  fight  at  all  hazards,  they 


174  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

kept  themselves  out  of  range  of  the  rifles  of  the  island- 
ers, but  maintained  a  desultory  fire  which  had  no  effect 
upon  the  men  entrenched  in  the  rifle  pits.  They  then 
spread  themselves  out  and  rode  around  the  island  in  a 
circle,  but  out  of  range  of  the  guns  of  the  entrapped 
soldiers.  It  was  plainly  their  intention  to  starve  the 
scouts  to  death  or  into  submission,  which  was  all  the 
same  to  them. 

In  the  meantime  the  situation  on  the  island  was  far 
from  pleasant.  Though  they  had  defended  themselves 
with  desperate  valor,  the  members  of  that  heroic  little 
band  did  not  escape  from  all  injury.  The  dead  num- 
bered a  score,  among  whom  was  Lieut.  Beecher,  a  nephew 
of  the  renowned  Henry  Ward  Beecher.  Among  those 
seriously  wounded  was  Surgeon  Moore,  who  was  lying 
at  the  point  of  death,  and  General  Forsythe,  with  a  bul- 
let through  his  leg  and  his  scalp  creased  with  another 
leaden  missile. 

The  situation  was  critical  in  the  extreme.  Their 
food  was  gone,  and  the  only  substitute  they  had  was  the 
flesh  of  the  dead  horses  that  lay  around  them.  From 
these  they  cut  pieces  of  flesh  which  they  ate  raw,  &.j 
there  was  no  opportunity  for  cooking  it.  This  stayed 
their  hunger  for  a  time,  but  it  was  a  poor  substitute  at 
best.  They  lacked,  also,  for  want  of  water,  for,  although 
the  stream  lay  within  a  few  feet  of  them,  to  reach  it 
was  impossible,  for,  if  a  man  showed  his  head  but  for  a 
moment  he  was  greeted  with  a  shower  of  bullets  that 
made  him  seek  cover  without  delay.  The  exigency  of 
the  situation  made  them  inventive,  and  as  they  were  al- 
most desperate  from  want  of  water,  they  had  recourse 
to  a  very  slow  method  of  digging  down  to  the  water 
level  in  order  to  secure  even  a  scant  supply.  They  cut 
open  a  canteen  in  such  a  way  that  it  would  serve  the 
purpose  of  a  shovel,  and  with  this  crude  implement  went 
to  work  to  scoop  up  the  sand  to  such  a  depth  as  would 
bring  them  to  the  object  of  their  search.  Their  patience 
and  persistence  was  rewarded  better  than  they  expected. 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  175 

Not  only  did  they  obtain  sufficient  to  meet  their  immedi- 
ate needs,  but  also  plenty  to  bathe  the  General's  wounds. 
As  far  as  the  dead  were  concerned,  to  bury  them  could 
not  be  thought  of,  as  even  the  movement  of  a  branch 
would  be  a  signal  for  a  dozen  or  more  bullets  which 
would  drive  them  back  to  the  shelter  of  their  defenses. 
Though  the  Indians  seemed  to  realize  the  predicament  of 
the  beseiged,  they  did  not  have  the  temerity  to  make  a 
final  dash  to  complete  the  work  of  butchery  they  had 
originally  planned.  Their  first,  second,  and  third  at- 
tempts had  cost  them  too  dearly,  and  they  were  content 
to  hover  near  with  the  intention  of  cutting  their  foe  to 
pieces  if  they  should  make  an  attempt  to  escape.  They 
waited  patiently,  apparently  secure  in  their  conviction 
that  the  beseiged  would  eventually  make  a  dash  for  lib- 
erty, and  if  such  were  to  occur  they  would  descend  upon 
the  stricken  little  band  and  with  one  fell  swoop  annihi- 
late them  completely.  Their  long  desired  wish  was  never 
accomplished.  Intent  upon  the  final  destruction  of  the 
whites,  they  neglected  to  bury  their  own  dead,  not  only 
because  they  were  too  busily  engaged  in  watching  the 
besieged,  but  principally  because  they  did  not  care  to 
risk  the  danger  of  adding  to  the  already  too  long  list  of 
their  fellow  tribesmen  who  had  recently  gone  to  the 
Happy  Hunting  Grounds.  Moreover,  the  approaching 
night  would  give  them  a  better  opportunity  to  secure 
the  bodies  of  their  slain  without  incurring  any  risk  of 
being  sent  to  join  them  in  the  land  of  their  forefathers. 
Night  fell,  and  with  it  came  a  cessation  of  hostili- 
ties. It  must  not  be  concluded  that  the  Indians  had 
abandoned  the  fight,  for  they  did  not,  but  kept  a  wary 
eye  upon  that  little  island,  knowing  that  delay  would 
surely  put  the  palefaces  in  their  possession.  Nor  did 
they  make  any  venture  to  attack  the  stronghold  of  the 
enemy  under  cover  of  darkness.  That  was  not  the  In- 
dian's way  of  conducting  his  warfare.  The  hour  favor- 
able for  the  Indian  raid  is  just  about  dawn,  when  they 
expect  to  find  the  enemy  asleep,  when  they  fall  upon 


176  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

their  unsuspecting  victims  and  butcher  them  unmerci- 
fully. As  for  the  little  band  on  the  island,  they  put  in 
a  most  miserable  night.  An  enemy  could  not  wish  them 
more  discomfort  than  what  they  experienced.  Tired, 
hungry,  surrounded  by  their  dead  companions,  they  were 
not  in  a  condition  to  find  comfort  in  a  situation  where 
they'  were  surrounded  by  their  mortal  enemies  who,  they 
thought,  would  take  advantage  of  the  darkness  to  crawl 
up  to  the  very  edge  of  their  retreat  and  do  them  to  death 
without  mercy.  However,  in  spite  of  such  unpleasant 
conditions,  the  besieged  kept  up  some  show  of  cheerful- 
ness. Morning  found  them  far  from  depressed  though 
the  situation  had  not  changed  for  the  better.  One  wag, 
in  spite  of  the  fact  that  death  might  be  lurking  in  his 
path,  cheerfully  remarked,  "Well,  boys,  I  guess  I  shall 
have  to  rustle  some  mule  meat  for  the  General's  break- 
fast. I  suppose  he  will  like  a  change  of  diet  as  he  had 
only  horse  meat  yesterday."  It  was  this  spirit  of  mirth 
amid  trying  surroundings  that  kept  the  little  band  alive 
and  ready  during  the  long  days  of  imprisonment  that 
followed. 

The  next  evening  did  not  bring  any  change  in  their 
environments.  The  day  had  been  spent  very  much  like 
the  preceding  one,  except  there  were  no  direct  assaults 
upon  the  island.  In  the  meantime  the  General's  leg  had 
become  badly  swollen,  and  inflammation  had  set  in. 
Whilst  bathing  it,  one  of  the  boys  discovered  the  bullet 
close  to  the  surface,  and  with  the  General's  permission 
performed  a  surgical  operation  with  a  pocket  knife  and 
removed  the  shapeless  mass  of  lead.  In  order  to  keep 
the  inflammation  down  as  much  as  possible,  the  embryo 
surgeon  continued  the  application  of  cold  water  to  the 
affected  part,  which  was  somewhat  efficacious.  With  the 
condition  of  the  camp  in  such  a  demoralized  condition, 
the  outlook  did  not  appear  very  promising.  Even  though 
the  Indians  should  leave,  which  was  not  very  lively,  the 
situation  would  not  be  relieved  to  any  great  extent,  as 
the  General  could  not  travel  without  the  aid  of  a  horse, 


STARVING  ELK 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  177 

and  just  then  all  the  horses  were  dead,  or  had  been 
stampeded.  Things  were  beginning  to  assume  a  desper- 
ate aspect.  Their  food  supply  was  about  reduced  to 
nothingness  as  the  horse  flesh  on  which  they  had  been 
subsisting  was  no  longer  available  as  it  was  fast  becom- 
ing tainted.  This  told  them  only  too  plainly  that  their 
stay  upon  the  island  was  to  be  of  short  duration,  and 
the  prospect  of  relief  from  the  outside  world  was  very 
slight.  Their  only  hope,  and  that  a  forlorn  one,  was  to 
cut  their  way  out  through  the  ranks  of  the  hostile  In- 
dians, and  even  the  prospects  of  success  in  such  a  ven- 
ture were  not  very  alluring.  Though  they  might  succeed 
in  breaking  through  the  red  cordon  that  held  them  pris- 
oners on  the  island,  the  hope  of  reaching  Port  Wallace 
could  hardly  be  thought  of  in  their  enfeebled  condition. 
It  would  amount  to  this,  that  they  would  have  to  fight 
their  whole  way  back  to  the  fort  without  so  much  as  a 
cracker  or  a  drink  of  water  to  sustain  them  on  the  way. 
It  is  hardly  possible  to  imagine  a  body  of  men  in  such 
straitened  circumstances  keeping  up,  and  even  fighting 
against  hope  for  delivery.  After  reviewing  the  situa- 
tion from  all  its  different  angles,  and  with  the  despera- 
tion that  urges  a  drowning  man  to  grasp  at  a  straw,  the 
General  saw  but  one  way,  and  that  one  indicated  very 
meager  chances  of  success,  namely,  to  call  for  volunteers 
who  would  endeavor  to  make  their  way  to  the  Fort  and 
bring  assistance.  Immediately,  upon  the  proposal  being 
made,  S.  E.  Stillwell,  better  known  by  the  name  of  Jack, 
and  another  scout  named  Pierre  Truedell,  expressed  their 
willingness  to  make  the  attempt.  It  was  sad  enough  to 
have  to  admit  the  failure  of  the  expedition  and  report 
the  news  of  the  disaster,  especially  when  they  had  started 
out  with  high  hopes  of  success,  but  it  was  a  measure  that 
had  to  be  taken  if  any  relief  was  to  be  exp'ected. 

It  was  a  perilous  undertaking  fraught  with  all  man- 
ner of  hardships.  Danger  lay  all  around  them,  and 
whether  they  would  reach  the  end  of  their  journey,  or 
be  taken  prisoner  and  tortured  by  the  Indians,  they  did 


178  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

not  know,  but  brave  at  heart,  they  feared  not,  but  set 
out  to  do  their  best  or  perish  in  the  attempt  to  bring 
succor  to  their  beleaguered  companions.  That  same 
evening  they  stole  forth  from  the  camp  and  crossed  the 
little  stream,  taking  with  them  the  best  wishes  and  pray- 
ers of  their  fellow  scouts  for  success.  If  ever  men  prayed 
fervently  and  expressed  sincere  wishes,  it  was  on  that 
occasion.  No  sooner  had  they  crossed  the  stream  than 
their  difficulties  began.  As  soon  as  they  had  crossed  the 
water,  they  found  their  shoes  filled  with  sand  and  water, 
and  they  were  compelled  to  stop  and  empty  them  as 
well  as  they  could.  Then  they  started  on  their  perilous 
undertaking  in  earnest.  They  did  not  know  at  what 
moment  they'  would  encounter  some  of  the  lurking  foe 
and  be  compelled  to  fight  for  their  lives.  They  did  not 
dare  to  walk  upright,  but  got  down  on  all  fours  and 
crawled  along  over  the  sloping  hillsides  like  dry  land 
terrapins.  Slowly,  carefully,  they  wound  their  way 
among  the  dead  Indians  that  littered  the  plain.  Pain- 
fully they  picked  their  way  with  tedium  through  the 
sullen  foe,  at  times  making  haste  as  best  they  could  in 
their  stooping  position,  at  times  lying  flat  upon  the 
ground  while  some  restless  Indian  kept  guard  and 
patrolled  his  beat  upon  the  hillside.  During  one  of  those 
unavoidable  delays,  Stillwell  took  time  to  change  his 
shoes  from  which  he  had  not  been  able  to  entirely  re- 
move the  sand,  and  which  were  hurting  his  feet  on  that 
account,  for  a  pair  of  moccasins  which  he  removed  from 
the  feet  of  a  dead  Indian  he  encountered  in  his  slow 
progress.  After  creeping  like  an  infant  on  all  fours  or 
worming  themselves  along  on  their  stomachs  for  over  a 
mile  they  decided  to  risk  standing  up  and  in  this  man- 
ner increasing  their  speed,  as  they  felt  certain  they  were 
outside  of  the  circle  of  Indians  who  were  keeping  watch 
on  the  little  band  of  their  comrades  on  the  island.  Their 
conclusion  about  their  position  relative  to  the  savages 
proved  correct.  When  they  had  gone  far  enough  to  per- 
mit them  to  risk  whispering  to  each  other,  Truedell  com- 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  179 

plained  that  his  feet  were  hurting  him  on  account  of  the 
quantity  of  sand  in  his  shoes.  As  there  was  no  dead 
Indian  near  who  had  no  further  use  for  moccasins,  he 
adapted  himself  to  the  necessity  of  the  case  and  removed 
his  shirt.  This  he  tore  into  bandages  in  which  he  wrap- 
ped his  feet.  They  were  well  aware  of  the  fact  that  there 
was  no  time  to  be  lost  in  their  mission,  as  every  moment 
of  unnecessary  delay  meant  hardship,  suffering  and  dan- 
ger to  their  companions  recently  left  behind.  They  strode 
on  at  a  greater  speed  than  before,  but  did  not  feel  safe 
in  talking  in  their  natural  tone  of  voice  until  they  had 
put  several  miles  between  themselves  and  their  starting 
point.  Daylight  found  they  still  trudging  hastily  on,  but 
the  light  compelled  them  to  seek  shelter  in  a  friendly 
canyon,  as  the  Indians  would  be  sure  to  find  their  trail 
sometime  during  the  hours  of  light  and  likely  set  out  to 
overtake  and  kill  them.  Into  the  canyon  they  crawled 
and  sought  the  shelter  of  the  most  secluded  nook  they 
could  find.  They  then  sat  down  to  take  a  much  needed 
rest.  Fortunately  for  them,  they  had  taken  the  precau- 
tion to  bring  with  them  some  of  the  horse  meat.  They 
had  matches  but  did  not  dare  risk  lighting  a  fire  as  the 
smoke  would  attract  the  attention  of  the  Indians  and 
bring  them  down  upon  them  post-haste.  They  contented 
themselves  with  making  the  best  of  a  bad  situation  and 
ate  the  horse  meat  raw.  Then  they  turned  over  and 
went  to  sleep.  Nightfall  found  them  on  their  way  again 
with  renewed  energy  and  determination.  They  felt  that 
the  loss  of  a  whole  day  on  their  journey  meant  added 
sufferings  to  their  companions,  but  such  delay  was  un- 
avoidable if  they  wished  to  reach  the  Fort  alive. 
On  through  the  darkness  they  went,  now  running, 
now  stumbling  over  the  uneven  ground,  but 
doggedly  moving  forward  with  unceasing  ardor.  Day- 
light found  them  far  from  the  cany'on  where  they  had 
spent  the  preceding  hours  of  sleep.  The  only  shelter  that 
presented  its'elf  to  their  view  was  a  dry  buffalo  wallow. 
Into  this  they  crawled  and  spent  the  remaining  hours  of 


180  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

the  day  in  sleep  if  possible,  or  reflecting  on  their  trying 
difficulties.  They  had  neither  food  nor  water.  It  had 
been  hours  since  they  had  taken  the  last  sup  of  water, 
and  they  suffered  acutely.  Their  lips  were  beginning  to 
swell  and  they  found  talking  difficult.  Hunger,  too, 
added  to  their  discomfort,  but  there  was  no  relief  at 
hand.  They  had  to  make  the  best  of  a  bad  situation  and 
hope  for  the  best.  They  were  willing  to  suffer  the  pangs 
of  hunger  and  thirst,  if  they  could  only  bring  relief  to 
their  beleaguered  friends.  Night  came  at  last,  and  they 
dragged  themselves  out  of  the  wallow  to  make  the  last 
desperate  effort  to  complete  their  journey.  Hungry  and 
thirsty  they  plunged  into  the  darkness.  Their  progress 
was  impeded  owing  to  their  weakened  condition,  but  on 
and  on  they  went,  staggering  and  stumbling  along,  half 
mad  with  thirst,  and  tormented  by  hunger.  Morning 
found  them  in  a  pitiable  condition.  Weary  and  wan 
they  seemed  as  the  morning  sun  showed  them  that  they 
were  not  yet  within  sight  of  the  fort  they  sought.  Half 
maddened  with  suffering  they  were  ready  for  anything. 
Truedell  shot  a  rabbit,  more  by  accident  than  design, 
and  this  they  fairly  tore  to  pieces  and  ate  raw.  They 
were  too  ravenous  to  wait  until  they  could  build  a  fire 
to  cook  it.  On  they  went  again,  until  they  came  to  a 
buffalo  hunter  trail  leading  to  the  Fort.  Footsore  and 
weary  they  dragged  themselves  along  till  almost  ex- 
hausted they  found  their  way  into  Fort  Wallace.  They 
sought  Colonel  Bankhead's  quarters  where  they  deliv- 
ered to  him  the  news  of  the  disaster  that  had  befallen 
the  ill-fated  expedition.  This  first  and  most  important 
duty  done,  they  then  sought  the  canteen  where  they  found 
everything  that  was  necessary  to  satisfy  their  pressing 
wants.  Relieved  of  the  excitement  of  the  journey,  tired 
and  worn  in  every  member,  conscious  of  the  fact  that 
they  had  done  their  share  in  forwarding  relief  to  their 
friends  still  in  distress,  they  sought  convenient  bunks 
and  were  soon  dead  to  the  world  in  deep  repose. 

The  next  night  after  Stillwell  and  Truedell  had  left 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  181 

the  island,  the  General  deemed  it  a  prudent  move  to 
send  two  more  scouts  on  the  same  mission.  He  feared 
that,  perhaps,  some  misfortune  had  overtaken  the  first 
emissaries,  and  if  such  were  the  case,  the  report  of  the 
disaster  would  never  reach  the  Fort,  nor  would  succor, 
come  to  him  and  his  command.  He  called  for  two  more 
volunteers  who  would  be  willing  to  try  to  elude  the  hun- 
dreds of  savage  eyes  that  were  glinting  with  hate  on  the 
courageous  little  band,  and  watching  every'  movement 
that  took  place  in  their  primitive  defense.  No  sooner 
had  he  issued  the  call  than  two  volunteers  offered  them- 
selves for  the  perilous  undertaking.  They  realized  the 
danger  they  would  dare,  but  as  they  then  stood,  there 
would  hardly  be  more  peril  in  their  efforts  to  break 
through  the  encircling  foe,  than  there  would  be  if  they 
remained  inert  upon  the  island  with  starvation  staring 
them  in  the  face,  and  a  band  of  bloodthirsty  Indians 
ready  to  pounce  upon  them  at  the  very  moment  they 
showed  signs  of  distress. 

If  they  did  not  go,  total  annihilation  awaited  them; 
if  they  did  go,  there  was  some  slight  chance  of  being 
liberated  from  their  present  predicament.  With  the  odds 
against  them,  they  were  willing  to  do  their  best.  The 
two  courageous  volunteers  for  the  second  effort  were  A. 
J.  Pliley  who  now  lives  in  Kansas  City,  and  Jack  Dono- 
van. They  set  out  in  about  the  same  manner  as  their 
two  companions  did  on  the  night  before,  and  were  very 
successful  in  eluding  the  foe.  Things  went  well  witjji 
them  until  the  second  day.  Perhaps  their  first  success  in 
eluding  the  Indians  made  them  over-bold,  but  the  fact 
remains  that  they  were  followed  by  a  band  of  Redskins 
who  discovered  their  trail.  On  the  second  day  out  on 
their  mission  they  experienced  a  great  scare.  They  were 
lying  in  a  dry  buffalo  wallow  when  Pliley  heard  a  noise. 
He  peered  carefully  over  the  edge  of  the  wallow  and 
discovered  in  the  distance,  about  half  a  mile  away1,  a 
band  of  about  thirty  warriors  coming  directly  towards 
the  spot  where  they  were  lying  concealed.  He  turned 


182  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

to  his  companion  and  said,  "Jack,  I  guess  it  is  all  up 
with  you  and  me.  There  are  about  thirty  Indians  com- 
ing straight  for  this  wallow."  "Well,"  replied  Jack,  "if 
that  is  the  case,  I  am  not  going  to  trade  even;  I  want 
two  for  one."  They  were  certainly  in  a  dreadful  pre- 
dicament. Surrounded  as  they  knew  they  would  be  by 
those  relentless  warriors,  they  determined  to  sell  their, 
lives  as  dearly  as  possible.  They  knew  the  process  only 
too  well.  They  could  see  already  that  band  of  warriors 
riding  around  the  wallow  in  a  circle,  shooting  at  them 
on  the  run,  or  perhaps,  even  making  a  rush  of  it  to  over- 
power them  by  weight  of  numbers,  and  murder  them 
heartlessly.  Perhaps,  they  might  make  them  prisoners, 
to  be  reserved  for  future  torture.  Carefully  keeping  an 
eye  upon  the  oncoming  band,  Pliley  kept  his  friend  in- 
formed of  their  movements.  It  would  not  do  to  expose 
themselves  too  soon,  as  there  might  be  some  hope  that 
the  Indians  had  not  discovered  their  actual  whereabouts. 
On  they  came,  and  the  two  men  spontaneously  reached 
for  their  weapons  to  defend  themselves.  Nearer  and 
nearer  they  came,  and  the  besieged  made  ready  to  give 
them  an  opening  salutation  of  welcome.  A  little  nearer 
they  approached  and  then  they  'halted.  They  cast  a 
scanning  glance  over  th'e  surrounding  country,  and  ap- 
parently they  were  satisfied  that  their  intended  victims 
had  eluded  them.  Then  they  turned  their  ponies  and 
rode  away  in  the  direction  whence  they  came.  With  a 
sigji  of  relief,  the  two  men  put  back  their  guns,  and  felt 
that  they  were  safe  for  the  present.  That  night  when 
they  set  out  again,  they  hastened  their  steps  as  rapidly 
as  possible,  knowing  that  the  foe  was  on  their  trail. 
Stumbling  along  in  much  the  same  condition  of  hunger 
and  thirst  as  the  two  former  scouts  had  done,  they  reeled 
into  the  Fort  th'e  same  evening  as  Stillwell  and  Truedell. 
It  was  needless  to  say  that  there  were  heartfelt  congratu- 
lations expressed  when  those  four  scouts  met  at  Fort 
Wallace. 

The  band  of  Indians  seen  by  Pliley  and  Donovan, 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  183 

were  undoubtedly  a  part  of  the  Roman  Nose  contingent. 
They  had  discovered  the  trail  of  tm3  men  shortly  after 
their  escape  from  the  island  and  pursued  them  with  the 
determination  to  overtake  them  and  put  them;  to  death, 
but  all  to  no  purpose.  They  little  knew  how  close  they 
came  to  being  successful  in  their  'efforts,  especially  as  at 
one  time  they  were  within  about  forty  rods  of  them  as 
they  lay  in  the  dry  buffalo  wallow.  Apparently  they 
became  discouraged  in  their  efforts  and  gave  up  the 
chase. 

Having  received  the  message  delivered  by  the  four 
men,  it  did  not  take  Colonel  Bankhead  long  to  call  out 
every  available  man  and  horse,  to  fit  out  ambulances, 
and  wagons  laden  with  provisions,  and  make  whatever 
preparations  were  necessary  to  relieve  the  wants  of  the 
distressed. 

When  the  Indians  knew  that  the  messengers  had 
eluded  them  and  had  likely  reached  the  Fort  in  spite  of 
all  the  measures  they  took  to  forestall  such  an  event, 
they  thought  prudence  the  better  part  of  valor  and  with- 
drew their  forces  from  the  neighborhood  of  the  island. 
They  foresaw  that  relief  would  come  to  the  brave  defend- 
ers of  the  little  sand  bar  in  a  very  short  time,  and  as 
they  had  such  small  success  with  a  small  band,  they  felt 
that  they  would  hardly  be  able  to  contend  with  a  greater 
force  which  would  be  certainjy  sent  out  for  their  relief. 

Once  the  relief  corps  got  in  motion,  it  did  not  let 
the  grass  grow  under  its  feet.  Their  progress  was  neces- 
sarily slower  than  that  of  the  expedition  on  account  of 
the  baggage  they  were  carrying,  and,  also,  because  they 
had  to  exercise  the  greatest  care  in  marching  for  they 
knew  not  at  what  time  they  would  encounter  a  band  of 
hostile  Indians.  The  journey  to  the  locality  of  the  dis- 
aster occupied  several  days.  They1  were  rather  surprised 
to  find  the  nearer  they  approached  their  destination  the 
less  the  presence  of  Indians  was  noted.  When  they  drew 
up  in  sight  of  the  island,  not  a  savage  was  to  be  seen 
or  heard  of. 


184  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

In  the  interim  of  the  departure  of  the  scouts  for 
relief,  the  prisoners  on  the  island  suffered  acutely. 
Around  them  lay  the  dead  bodies  of  some  of  their  com- 
panions whom  they  did  not  dare  to  venture  out  to  bury. 
They  were  rapidly  decomposing  and  the  atmosphere  was 
laden  with  the  nauseating  smell  that  accompanies  such 
a  condition  either  of  animal,  or  man.  Added  to  this  was 
the  number  of  dead  horses,  which  added  to  the  intensity 
of  the  malodorous  smell.  The  wounded  suffered  more 
and  more  as  inflamation  set  in  or  increased.  Their  con- 
dition was  pitiable  as  very  little  could  be  done  to  relieve 
their  sufferings.  Above  all  this,  they  had  to  endure  the 
pangs  of  hunger,  which  every  day  grew  more  and  more 
irksome  It  was  a  sad  spectacle  that  the  eyes  of  the 
relief  corps  beheld  when  they  came  upon  them  first. 
Hardly  able  to  raise  their  weakened  bodies  from  a  re- 
cumbent position,  the  wounded  endeavored  to  give  a 
cheer  at  the  sight  of  their  deliverers,  but  it  was  such 
a  mockery  of  cheer  that  it  was  enough  to  bring  tears 
to  the  eyes  of  many  a  veteran.  Those  who  had  not  been 
wounded,  and  they  were  few,  lent  a  willing  hand  to  the 
administration  of  medical  assistance  to  their  stricken 
companions.  They  felt  so  overcome  with  joy  themselves 
that  they  could  hardly  express  themselves  in  the  inten- 
sity of  their  happiness.  But  their  newly-arrived  fellow 
scouts  and  soldiers  knew  by  their  looks  the  depth  and 
sincerety  of  their  feelings  of  gratitude,  and  felt  happy 
to  be  able  to  reach  them  before  death  had  overtaken  the 
whole  band. 

The  first  duty  to  be  attended  to  by  the  relief  party, 
was  the  burial  of  the  dead.  Delay  would  have  been 
dangerous  and,  perhaps,  fatal,  as  they  were,  as  mentioned 
above,  badly  decomposed.  They  performed  the  sad  duty 
over  the  remains  of  their  former  companions  with  all  the 
reverence  that  their  circumstances  would  permit.  Next, 
they  had  to  look  after  the  wants  of  their  General.  He 
had  been  suffering  intensely  from  the  wound  in  the  scalp 
and  in  the  leg.  They  administered  such  remedies  as  they 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  185 

had,  which  produced  some  relief.  The  rest  iof  the, 
wounded  were  attended  to  in  much  the  same  fashion, 
each  one  receiving  what  attention  could  be  given  them. 
When  all  this  had  been  done,  they  made  ready  to  set 
out  for  the  fort.  It  was  a  slow  journey,  but  in  time 
they  reached  their  destination  where  proper  remedies 
soon  restored  them  to  fighting  condition  again. 

The  expedition  of  Gen.  Forsythe,  which  he  insisted 
on  making  against  Roman  Nose  and  his  band,  terminated 
in  dismal  failure.  It  had  cost  the  lives  of  several  val- 
uable and  experienced  men,  and  marred  to  some  degree 
the  reputation  for  success  which  he  had  hitherto  gained. 
Nevertheless,  the  lesson  bore  fruit.  It  taught  the  Amer- 
ican people  at  large,  and  General  Forsythe  in  particular 
that  all  the  knowledge  of  Indian  warfare  is  not  taught 
at  the  military  academy  at  West  Point.  In  fact,  it  was 
impressed  upon  the  minds  of  several  who  were  in  a 
position  to  profit  by  the  lesson,  that  the  "University  of 
the  Plains"  was  far  better  adapted  to  produce  men  who 
would  be  successful  in  that  mode  of  fighting  than  any  of 
the  academies  established  for  the  purpose  of  instructing 
the  neophyte  in  the  art  of  conducting  warlike  man- 
oeuvres. 

The  writer  is  indebted  to  S.  E.  Stillwell,  better 
known  to  his  friends  as  'Jack,"  for  the  information 
regarding  the  battle  of  Arickaree,  in  which  he  played 
so  prominent  a  part.  His  feat,  alone,  of  bearing  the 
message  from  Gen.  Forsythe  to  Fort  Wallace  was  suf- 
ficient to  win  him  undying  fame.  In  such  high  esteem 
was  he  held  by  those  to  whom  he  lent  his  services,  that 
Gen.  Phil.  Sheridan  characterized  him  as  being  the 
bravest  and  most  daring  young  man  he  ever  knew,  and 
he  knew  a  multitude  of  them.  He  was,  later  on,  the 
trusted  and  boon  companion  of  Buffalo  Bill,  "Col.  W. 
Cody,"  in  fighting  the  Indians  on  the  plains.  At  one 
time,  later  on,  he  was  Police  Judge  of  the  City  of  El 
Reno.  This  position  he  retained  until  he  was  appointed 
United  States  Commissioner  at  Anadarko,  Okla.  This 


186  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

position  he  resigned  and  went  to  the  North  Plate,  Neb., 
where  he  died  and  was  buried  within  a  day's  ride  of  the 
battle  ground  of  the  Arickaree.  While  he  was  filling 
the  office  of  Commissioner  at  Anadarko,  the  writer  fre- 
quently spent  hours  with  him  chatting  over  the  events 
of  former  days  upon  the  plains.  During  one  of  those 
visits,  he  ventured  to  inquire  of  the  Commissioner  if 
he  thought  he  himself  had  killed  Roman  Nose.  He  re- 
plied that  he  did  not  know,  but  after  taking  a  few  puffs 
of  his  cigarette,  he  naively  remarked  that  if  he  did  not, 
it  was  attributable  to  his  aim  and  not  to  his  intention 
as  he  gave  him  his  undivided  attention  from  the  time 
he  came  within  range  of  his  rifle  until  he  fell  from  his 
horse.  He  paused  then  and  took  a  few  more  puffs,  and 
closed  the  subject  by  remarking,  "perhaps,  some  of  the 
other  boys  did  it." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

The  Whirlwind  Raid;   Great  Expectations  Reduced  to 
Disappointment,  etc. 

For  several  years  succeeding  to  terminations  of  the 
Civil  War,  the  whole  plains  country,  as  I  have  said  in 
the  previous  chapter,  from  the  frontier  settlements  west- 
ward including  a  great  portion  of  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
and  from  the  British  line  on  the  north  to  the  Red  river 
on  the  north  line  of  Texas,  was  claimed  by  the  Indian 
by  virtue  of  his  title  begotten  of  prior  possession,  and 
was  used  by  him,  as  a  hunting  ground,  and  also  as  the 
theatre  in  which  to  stage  the  settlement  of  tribal  dif- 
ficulties. As  a  variation  from  those  internal  battles,  or 
wars,  as  you  may  wish  to  call  them,  they  frequently 
made  raids  upon  the  white  settlers,  killing  and  scalping 
the  men,  kidnapping  the  women  and  children,  and  run- 
ning off  their  stock  as  spoils  of  war.  They  roamed  that 
vast  expanse  of  territory  at  will,  seeking  their  sustenance 
from  the  abundance  of  wild  game  with  which  the  plains 
were  teeming.  Buffalo  and  deer  were  there  in  innumer- 
able quantities  and  were  easily  slaughtered.  Smaller 
game  abounded  'everywhere.  When  the  bucks  returned 
from  the  chase  with  a  buffalo  or  a  deer  to  show  for  his 
efforts,  the  squaws  took  possession  of  the  carcass,  cutting 
off  huge  chunks  of  meat  for  provisions,  and  then  tanning 
the  hides  at  which  they  were  experts.  In  times  of  peace 
they  worked  faithfully  at  the  task  of  converting  the 
green  hide  into  something  serviceable,  but  when  the  war 
alarm  was  sounded,  they  readily  threw  aside  the  work  at 
hand  to  follow  their  lord  and  master  on  the  warpath,  not  as 
an  idle  onlooker,  but  armed  with  a  scalping  knife  and 
tomahawk,  they  followed  up  the  work  of  slaughter  by 
assisting  in  the  scalping,  or  mutilating  the  bodies  of  the 


188  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

dead.  In  this  last  feature  of  the  raid,  they  seemed  to 
be  carried  away  by  a  sort  of  frenzy,  and  the  manner  in 
which  they  treated  the  corpses  of  those  slain,  was  brutal 
and  inhuman  in  the  extreme.  In  my  own  experience  I 
have  known  squaws  who  were  so  fascinated  by  this  kind 
of  brutality  or  rather  ghoulishness,  that  at\  the  first 
notes  of  the  war  song  they  deserted  their  white  husbands 
to  follow  in  the  wake  of  the  war,  although  at  the  time 
they  were  drawing  rations  from  the  government  and 
were  in  possession  of  comfortable  homes. 

In  this  connection,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  say  some- 
thing of  the  Medicine  Man,  and  the  part  he  played  in 
the  Indian  raids.  I  might  say  that  he  was  the  most 
important  factor  in  such  undertakings,  as  well  as  in  the 
inter-tribal  disputes.  He  seemed  to  have  such  an  influ- 
ence over  the  destinies  of  the  tribe  in  which  he  was 
operating,  that  the  chiefs  and  their  followers  placed 
implicit  confidence  in  his  dicisions.  On  him  alone,  rather 
than  the  chiefs  in  council,depended  the  undertaking  of 
any  raid,  or  struggle.  Whenever  there  was  any  prospect 
of  trouble  arising,  he  called  the  chiefs  and  warriors  and 
held  a  seance  in  which  he  made  inquiries  of  them  as  to 
their  opinions  and  views  regarding  the  matter  under 
discussion.  This  done,  he  set  about  a  series  of  orgies 
and  incantations  to  discover  from  some  secret  agency 
the  advisability  of  making  the  venture,  or  abandoning 
it.  A  consultation  of  this  kind  often  took  several  days, 
but  when  he  arrived  at  some  conclusion,  it  was  announced 
to  the  chiefs  and  their  followers,  and  his  decision  in 
the  matter  was  final  and  devoid  of  any  appeal.  As  soon 
as  the  result  of  his  incantation  was  promulgated,  the 
warriors  buckled  on  their  armor,  if  I  may  use  the  ex- 
pression, though  there  were  few  buckles  and  oftentimes 
no  more  armor  than  a  breach-clout  and  a  blanket  with 
some  instrument  of  warfare,  and  made  ready  for  the 
raid  on  some  white  settler's  cabin  and  stock,  or  to  engage 
in  a  death  struggle  with  some  other  tribe.  The  success 
or  failure  of  his  prediction  did  not  affect  the  medicine 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  189 

man  in  any  great  degree  as  regards  his  position  in  the 
tribe.  If  the  raid  was  a  success,  he  became  the  lion  of 
the  hour  and  the  tribe  looked  upon  him  as  something 
of  a  supernatural  being,  but  if,  on  the  contrary,  things 
resulted  adversely,  he  had  little  to  lose  except  his  repu- 
tation, and  that  would  be  so  badly  shattered  that  no 
other  member  of  the  tribe  would  care  to  wear  his  mantel 
of  prophesy.  To  illustrate  the  case  in  point,  I  shall 
mention  what  befell  chief  Black  Kettle's  Medicine  Man. 
After  holding  a  seance  for  several  days,  he  arrived  at 
the  very  pleasing  conclusion  that  the  white  man's  gun 
was  no  good;  that  the  bullets  would  fall  to  the  ground 
close  to  the  muzzle  of  the  gun  and  consequently  would 
not  injure  an  Indian.  When  Gen.  Ouster  fell  upon  him, 
one  winter's  morning,  on  the  Washita  and  killed  more 
than  one  hundred  of  his  warriors  with  Black  Kettle 
himself,  and  took  the  remainder  of  the  band  prisoners 
and  brought  them  to  Camp  Supply,  the  estimate  on  that 
Medicine  Man's  ability  as  a  prognosticator  was  dimin- 
ished to  a  vanishing  point.  We  are  inclined  to  smile  at 
the  credulity  of  the  Indian  in  the  matter  of  consulting 
the  Medicine  Man,but,  in  this  curiosity  to  secure  a 
knowledge  of  future  events,  especially  where  they  refer 
to  his  welfare,  they  were  not  much  different  from  the 
rank  and  file  of  white  folks  who  consult  some  street  fakir 
or  clairvoyant,  turning  over  half  a  dollar  to  find  out 
whether  a  business  man  is  dealing  fairly  or  otherwise, 
or  to  discover  if  the  partner  of  one's  joys  and  sorrows, 
is  travelling  the  path  of  rectitude  or  not,  or  to  discover 
some  secret  source  of  wealth  that  will  place  the  inquirer 
beyond  the  reach  of  want.  Such  foolish  curiosity  is  not 
confined  to  any  race  or  tribe,  as  I  find  in  my  varied 
reading  that  the  practice  of  clairvoyancy,  soothsaying, 
etc.,  has  been  in  practice  and  fashion  from  the  days 
when  Moses  led  the  Children  of  Israel  out  of  Egypt  down 
through  the  ages  to  the  present  day,  and  you  will  find 
on  investigation  that  the  clients  of  the  fakir  are  not 
limited  to  the  unlettered  class,  but  embrace  members' 


190  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

from  every  grade  of  society  from  the  proletariat  to  the 
Four  Hundred.  However,  to  return  to  the  thread  of 
my  story,  I  must  say  that  since  the  day  when  the  long 
range  gun  has  been  put  in  the  hands  of  man,  the  calling 
of  the  Medicine  Man  has  become  almost  obsolete. 

In  regard  to  the  manner  of  conducting  campaigns, 
mere  was  no  fixed  rule,  but  every  chief  conducted 
his  fight  as  circumstances  dictated,  and  some  of  the 
later  day  chieftains  manifested  an  ability  in  their  cant 
paigns  that  would  stamp  them  as  Napoleons  of  theii 
tribes  and  times.  Precision  and  alacrity  were  seldom 
wanting  in  the  raids.,U;  they  came  in  contact  with  the 
soldier,  they  outclassed  him  to  some  degree,  as,  after 
the  first  few  volleys,  they  scattered  and  disappeared 
from  view  with  a  readiness  that  was  astonishing.  Nor 
could  the  trained  soldier  of  the  line  follow  up  his  foe 
to  any  advantage  as  they  seldom  left  a  trail  behind  that 
would  guide  him  to  their  hiding  place.  The  untrained 
eye  of  the  military  man  militated  against  any  success 
he  might  otherwise  have  had,  and  it  required  the  scout 
of x  the  plains  to  ferret  out  the  marks  and  signs  that 
would  give  any  opportunity  for  pursuit.  In  the  mean- 
time the  Indian  on  his  fleet-footed  ponies  would  likely 
be  fifty  or  one  hundred  miles  away  from  the  point  of 
encounter. 

The  Indian  did  not  always  confine  his  raiding  pro- 
pensities to  the  white  man,  but  as  frequently  gave  his 
attention  to  some  of  the  neighboring  tribes  with  whom 
they  had  some  matter  to  adjust.  N,eedless  to  say,  when 
two  tribes  met  in  conflict,  the  fighting  bore  a  character 
of  savagery  that  was  in  keeping  with  the  untamed  nature 
of  the  participants.  Naturally,  the  Indian  was  compelled 
to  confine  himself  to  the  use  of  such  weapons  as  his 
limited  ingenuity  could  provide,  but  in  the  use  of  what 
he  had  he  was  an  adept.  Before  the  introduction  of 
fire-arms  his  chief  weapons  consisted  of  the  bow  and 
arrow,  the  tomahawk,  and  the  scalping  knife,but  if  an 
opportunity  presented  itself  for  him  to  make  use  of  the 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  191 

more  up-to-date  weapons  of  warfare,  he  took  advantage 
of  it,  as  is  instanced  in  the  case  of  the  raid  made  upon 
the  Sack  and  Fox  Indians  by  their  more  southerly 
neighbors. 

The  Sack  and  Fox  Indians  were  located  in  Kansas, 
and  by  reason  of  their  close  proximity  to  the  settlements 
of  white  men,  and  also  on  account  of  carrying  on  trade 
with  them,  they  came  into  possession  of  fire-arms  which 
they  used  with  considerable  success  in  hunting  the  buf 
falo.  They  found  it  to  their  advantage  to  use  the 
weapon  for  laying  up  supplies  of  meat  and  hides.  This 
opened  up  an  avenue  of  trade  for  them  as  they  found 
a  ready  market  for  the  buffalo  skins  they  procured,  but 
in  their  prosperity  they  nearly  were  overcome  by  dis- 
aster. The  plain  Indians  learning  of  the  success  of  the 
Sack  and  Fox  Indians,  became  jealous  of  them  and  re- 
solved to  exterminate  them.  A  conference  was  called 
and  invitations  issued  to  the  different  tribes  to  take 
part  in  the  general  pow-wow.  The  assemblage  was  to 
take  place  on  the  Arkansas  River,  where  they  were  to 
decide  on  what  measures  to  take,  or,  in  other  words,  lay 
out  a  plan  of  campaign.  The  Kiowas,  Comanches,  Arappa- 
hoes,  Apaches,  and  Chyennes  presented  themselves  011 
the  day  appointed,  and  initiated  the  proceedings  with 
a  Medicine  Dance.  Then  a  council  of  war  was  called 
and  they  came  to  the  unanimous  conclusion  to  go  north 
to  the  Smoky  Hill  river  and  wage  relentless  war  upon 
the  Sack  and  Fox  Indians  and  thus  terminate  the 
slaughter  of  the  buffalo  on  the  plains.  The  leadership 
of  this  expedition  was  by  common  consent  bestowed 
upon  Chief  Whirlwind.  They  then  indulged  in  their 
customary  war-dance  and  set  forth  upon  their  mission 
of  destruction. 

It  was  Robert  Burns  who  wrote  that, 

The  best  laid  plans  of  mice  and  men 
Gang  aft  aglee, 

And  lea '  us  naught  but  grief  and  pain 
For  promised  joy. 


192  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

This  quotation  applies  definitely  to  the  Whirlwind 
raid.He  started  forth  like  a  "plumed  knight"  chanting 
his  war  song  and  whooping  along  the  way  to  instill 
courage  into  his  braves,  each  of  whom  carried  a  back- 
load  of  arrows  and  a  couple  of  well-strung  bows  as  his 
weapons  of  war,  and  expected  to  share  in  the  glory  of 
a  great  victory.  Nor  did  the  chanting  and  roaring  of 
their  chieftan  fail  of  its  purpose.  By  the  time  they 
reached  their  destination  they  were  all  strung  up  to  the 
highest  tension,  in  fact  they  were  all  but  counting  the 
scalps  they  were  about  to  carry  away  in  triumph,  etc. 
They  reached  the  canyon  in  the  Smoky  Hill  country 
where  the  Sack  and  Fox  Indians  had  secreted  themselves, 
prepared  to  give  the  invaders  of  their  hunting  ranges 
a  warm,  reception.  Whirlwind  and  his  band  advanced 
in  confidence,  knowing  they  outnumbered  their  intended 
victims,  but  they  were  not  acquainted  with  the  new  ally 
of  their  foe.  They  knew  absolutely  nothing  of  the  use 
of  fire-arms,  their  efficiency,  and  death  dealing  powers. 
They  had  not  become  acquainted  with  the  sound  of  the 
carbine,  nor  of  the  shot-gun.  This  was  a  power  they  did 
not  to  reckon  with,  nor  knew  how  to  estimate  its  value. 
The  only  thing  that  concerned  them  just  then  was  to 
make  a  sudden  whirlwind  dash  upon  their  foe,  butcher 
them,  and  carry  off  the  spoils.  They  were  led  up  to  the 
mouth  of  the  canyon  chanting  and  shouting,  when  the 
muzzles  of  a  hundred  guns  belched  forth  thunder  and 
lightning,  and  a  hail  of  leaden  bullets  flew  around  them 
in  death  dealing  myriads.  They  turned  and  fled,  stam- 
peded like  a  herd  of  antelope  toward  their  starting 
point.  They  reached  the  Arkansas,  but  oh!  how  their 
bright  expectations  had  been  rudely  shattered.  One 
conclusion  they  arrived  at  as  the  result  of  their  un- 
profitable venture,  and  that  was  that  bows  and  arrows 
was  no  weapon  to  offset  the  effect  of  a  musket  or  a 
carbine.  It  was  a  sad  return  for  all  their  brilliant  hopes. 
Behind  them  lay  the  corpses  of  fifty  of  their  bravest 
warriors,  whilst  twice  that  number  came  limping  back 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  193 

home,  crippled  by  the  unthought-of  ally  of  their  foes. 
Nor  could  the  loss  be  estimated  at  the  death  of  their 
fellow  braves,  nor  in  the  wounds  borne  by  the  cripples, 
nor  in  the  number  of  horses  that  had  been  shot  from 
under  them,  but  in  the  blow  to  their  tribal  pride.  There 
they  suffered  most,  for  it  was  inconceivable  to  think 
that  one-hundred  and  twenty-five  Sack  and  Fox  Indians 
should  in  any  manner  possible  overcome  the  flower  of 
the  various  tribes  that  participated  in  the  raid.  It  is 
estimated  by  those  who  know,  that  there  were  between 
twelve  and  fifteen  hundred  warriors  of  the  southern 
tribes  under  the  command  of  the  mighty  Whirlwind. 
As  a  battle,  there  was  little  or  nothing  to  it.  The  chief 
with  all  his  experience  could  not  get  his  men  to  face 
that  leaden  hail  that  smote  the  ranks  so  mercilessly. 
There  was  nothing  to  do  but  turn  tail  and  flee,  which 
he  did. 

When  they  returned  to  the  Arkansas,  they  mutually 
agreed  that  the  expedition  from  the  view-point  of  results 
obtained  was  a  failure.  From  there  they  made  their  way 
south  until  they  reached  the  North  Canadian  river  and 
there  disbanded,  'each  tribe  seeking  its  own  reservation, 
or  hunting  grounds  as  it  saw  fit.  They  never  again 
returned  to  molest  the  Sack  and  Fox  tribes  in  their 
peaceful  occupation. 

It  was  currently  reported  and  believed  by  many 
that  Whirlwind  on  his  return  to  the  hunting  grounds 
on.  the  North  Canadian,  said  that  every  feather  had  been 
shot  from  his  war  bonnet  during  the  'engagement,  in  the 
Smoky  Hill  canyon.  I  never  had  the  pleasure  of  being 
intimately  acquainted  with  that  doughty  warrior,  but  I 
have  seen  him  on  several  occasions  and  have  also  seen 
his  war  bonnet,  and  I  know  something  of  the  amount 
of  feathers  required  to  decorate  it.  Since  he  has  passed 
to  the  Happy1  Hunting  Grounds,  I  shall  take  this  oppor- 
tunity of  denying  that  he  ever  made  such  a  statement, 
for  I  do  not  believe  that  he  ever  said  it,  as  the  evidence 
would  plainly  indicate  that  he  would  not  be  telling  the 


194  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

truth,  which  would  be  plain  to  all.  Knowing  how  much 
the  wily  old  warrior  prized  the  emblem  of  his  former 
prowess  in  the  field  of  battle,  I  feel  certain  that  he 
would  never  submit  to  have  it  disfigured  by  the  bullets 
of  his  foes,  particularly,  whilst  his  head  was  beneath 
it.  So  I  shall  repeat  what  I  said  before,  "He  did  not 
say  it." 

The  reader  may  be  pleased  to  have  a  little  insight 
into  the  general  character  of  Whirlwind,  the  leader  of  the 
expedition  that  failed.  Like  all  leaders  whether  white, 
black,  or  bronze,  he  always  made  it  his  motto  to  win. 
Kill,  conquer  and  destroy  were  the  methods  he  employed 
in  his  campaigns.  In  the  heat  of  battle,  he  was  relent- 
less and  uncompromising,  but  when  the  battle  was  over 
and  he  had  returned  to  his  own  hunting  grounds,  he 
showed  a  spirit  of  forgiveness  and  generosity,  as  well 
as  many  other  redeeming  qualities,  for  which  he  should 
receive  due  credit. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

The  Sun  Dance ;  Preparations ;  Its  Religious  Significance ; 
and  Purpose ;  How  it  was  Conducted,  etc. 

It  may  not  be  amiss  to  insert  here  a  description  of 
what  was  known  to  the  various  Indian  tribes  as  the  Sun 
Dance.  Each  nation,  people,  or  tribe  in  past  history 
has  had  some  ceremony,  symbolic  in  its  nature,  by  which 
honors  and  dignities  were  conferred  upon  those  who 
sough  honor  and  preferment.  Nor  has  this  custom  been 
confined  to  any  particular  class,  for  all  have,  at  different 
times,  indulged  in  the  practice,  nor  was  it  without  its 
influence  and  effect  upon  those  who  sought  advancement. 
The  Knights  of  the  Middle  Ages,  when  in  the  act  of 
receiving  the  symbols  of  their  office  and  vocation,  were 
compelled  to  submit  themselves  to  some  kind  of  ordeal 
by  which  they  manifested  their  fitness  to  wear  the  honors 
they  sought.  So,  too,  it  was  with  the  denizens  of  the 
plains,  as  the  following  narrative  from  unimpeachable 
authority  will  illustrate.  Just  as  in  the  days  of  old, 
the  ceremony  was  partly  religious  in  its  development,  so, 
too,  the  children  of  the  plains  invested  the  conferring 
of  honors  and  rights  to  preferment  with  religious  cere- 
mony and  physical  tests. 

The  Sun  Dance,  as  practiced  by  the  Cheyenne  tribe  of 
Indians,  dates  back  to  time  immemorial.  In  the  perform- 
ance of  it,  the  Indian  makes  a  profession  of  faith  in  the 
Supreme  Being,  and  at  the  same  time  subjects  those 
who  engage  in  it,  to  a  physical  test  that  is  sufficient  to 
try  the  heart  and  soul  of  even  the  most  valiant.  The 
first  step  in  the  proceedings  of  this  semi-religious  festival, 
is  to  select  the  proper  location  for  the  celebration  of  it. 
Weeks,  and  perhaps  months  in  advance,  some  pow-wow 
is  held  at  which  they  make  the  selection  of  the  place  in 


196  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

which  they  wish  to  hold  their  festival.  Usually  some 
well-known  camping  ground  is  chosen  on  account  of  the 
abundance  of  fuel  and  water,  both  of  which  were  neces- 
sary for  the  proper  conduct  of  the  ceremony,  for  it  was 
essential  that  there  should  be  means  at  hand  for  pre- 
paring the  final  feast,  as  well  as  an  abundant  supply 
of  water  for  the  multitudes  assembled  from  the  different 
districts  for  the  purpose  of  watering  their  stock,  as  well 
as,  affording  bathing  facilities  to  such  a  vast  number. 

For  several  days  prior  to  the  actual  enactment  of 
the  ceremony,  Indians  would  begin  to  assemble,  strag- 
gling in  from  long  distances,  bringing  with  them  the 
greater  part  of>  their  hou^eh'old  belongings.  North, 
south,  east,  and  west  sent  their  contingents.  "Whole 
families  with  their  teepees,  ponies,  and  dogs,  assembled 
from  all  parts  of  the  reservations  or  the  plains  to  par- 
ticipate in  the  festivities  or  to  be  merely  on-lookers 
hoping  in  their  mere  presence  to  receive  some  benediction 
from  the  Great  Spirit  Whom  they  assembled  to  worship. 
Long  before  the  arrival  of  these  scattered  bands,  the 
Medicine  Man  was  on  the  scene  to  give  his  attention 
to  whatever  preparations  were  required  for  the  occasion. 
He  usually  selected  some  central  point  wherein  to  erect 
his  place  of  worship.  In  this  chosen  spot  he  was  to 
enact  the  two-fold  role  of  High  Priest  and  Medicine 
Man,  to  minister  to  their  spiritual  and  corporal 
necessities. 

Many  days  elapsed  before  the  arrival  of  the  final 
contingent,  and  the  intervening  time  had  to  be  employed 
as  best  they  could.  This  gave  those  who  had  already 
arrived  on  the  scene,  an  opportunity  of  visiting  their 
relations  and  friends,  whom  they  had  not  met,  perhap^ 
since  the  preceding  Sun  Dance.  The  older  folks  were 
content  to  while  away  the  passing  hours  in  social  con- 
verse, whilst  the  young  engaged  in  feats  of  skill,  con- 
testing in  games  peculiar  to  the  tribe.  It  was  quite 
evident  that  they  were  supremely  happy  in  their  childish 
amusements,  and  enjoyed  them  as  thoroughly  as  their 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  197 

white  contemporaries  found  pleasure  and  enjoyment  in 
their  more  up-to-date  and  scientific  play  toys.  One 
thing  particularly  noticeable  in  all  their  endeavors  was 
the  spirit  of  prompt  obedience  to  parental  authority. 
The  control  that  the  Indian  parent  exercises  over  his 
child  is  marvelous,  and  in  all  my  intercourse  with  the, 
children  of  the  plains,  I  have  never  known  of  a  parent 
chastizing  his  child  in  a  cruel  or  harsh  manner.  It  is 
a  thing  unheard  of,  that  a  child  ever  raised  a  hand  or 
uttered  an  unfilial  expression  of  contempt  towards  his 
parents.  I  believe  that  if  an  Indian  child  were  to 
emulate  the  example  of  many  white  children,  whom  I 
have  known  not  only  to  treat  their  parents  with  con- 
tempt, but  even  go  so  far  as  to  treat  them  contumeliously, 
the  Indian  father  would  be  so  staggered  by  such  an  out- 
break and  disregard  for  the  proprieties  of  his  position, 
that  it  would  require  a  council  of  chiefs  to  decide  upon 
the  proper  mode  of  dealing  with  the  case,  as  it  would 
lack  all  precedent.  The  little  redskin  is  attentive  to 
the  wants  of  his  parents,  and  at  all  times  exercises  a 
continual  watchfulness  over  their  wants  to  forestall  anj 
command  to  fulfill  some  duty.  Nor  do  the  parents  fill 
the  childish  mind  with  tales  of  goblins  and  hobgoblins 
to  excite  terror  in  his  little  heart.  Even  the  customary 
punishment  of  locking  the  little  child  up  in  some  dark 
corner,  is  lacking,  for  there  is  no  need  of  it.  Obedience 
to  authority  is  part  of  the  nature  of  the  Indian  child 
and  it  comes  so  easy  for  him  to  render  it  that  it  never 
becomes  irksome. 

When  the  last  stragglers  have  arrived,  and  the  inter- 
change of  social  courtesies  is  fulfilled,  the  large  central 
teepee,  or  ampitheatre  is  erected  and  ready  for  occu- 
pancy. In  the  center  of  this  teepee  is  placed  a  large 
pole  much  the  same  as  the  old-time  May  pole  used  by 
the  people  of  the  Middle  Ages  011  the  occasion  of  their 
annual  celebrations,  but  in  this  case  the  purpose  was 
very  much  different,  as  will  be  seen  later  on  in  this 
narrative. 


198  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

During  the  time  the  rank  and  file  of  the  Indians 
were  'enjoying  their  intercourse,  the  young  men  who 
were  candidates  for  honors  in  the  trials  of  endurance, 
were  busying  themselves  plaiting  their  hair  and  painting 
their  bodies.  They<  decorated  their  faces  and  other 
portions  of  the  body  with  every  conceivable  kind  of 
animal  and  reptile  that  human  ingenuity  could  invent, 
as  taste  or  custom  suggested.  Some  of  the  productions 
were  very  artistic,  and  some  were  rather  grotesque,  but 
the  tout-ensemble  served  the  purpose  for  which  the  work 
was  intended.  They  were  no  novices  in  the  art  of 
extracting  colors  from  the  plants  and  shrubs  that  grew 
in  abundance  on  the  plains,  and  at  the  same  time  had 
developed  the  art  of  applying  them  to  the  human  body 
for  decorative  purposes.  The  paints  were  not  indelible, 
consequently  they  could  be  easily  removed  and  another 
application  made  as  circumstances  required.  At  times, 
the  renewal  of  the  decoration  took  place  as  many  as 
four  or  five  times  a  day. 

Th'e  ceremony  lasted  four  days  without  any  inter- 
mission. During  that  time  the  candidates  for  honors 
were  obliged  to  such  a  strict  fast  and  abstinence,  that  not 
a  morsel  of  food,  nor  a  drop  of  water  passed  their  lips 
during  the  time.  One  favor  was  conceded  to  them ;  they 
were  allowed  to  smoke.  One  might  be  inclined  to  think 
that,  at  times,  the  regulation  was  not  faithfully  observed, 
but  there  he  would  be  mistaken.  There  were  too  many 
eyes  upon  the  candidates  to  permit  of  his  stealing  off 
to  the  commissary  department  of  the  assemblage,  nor 
could  he  by  any  means  carry  off  beneath  the  folds  of 
his  garments  a  morsel  of  food  as  the  extent  of  his 
habiliments  would  not  permit  such  a  thing  as  his  outfit 
consisted  of  a  breach-clout  around  his  waist  and  a  few 
feathers  in  his  hair. 

At  the  hour  appointed  for  the  opening  of  the  cere- 
mony, a  chief  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  throngh  the 
assembled  throng  crying  out  that  the  ordeal  was  about 
to  begin.  It  was  his  duty  also  to  set  down  the  rules 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  199 

and  regulations  governing  the  performance.  When  he 
had  explained  the  ordinances  sufficiently  to  be  understood 
by  all  the  candidates,  he  withdrew  and  the  Medicine 
Man  appeared  on  the  scene.  He  was  decked  out  in  his 
most  gorgeous  array  of  feathers  and  finery,  with  his  hair 
plaited  down  his  back  and  ornamented  with  more  feathers 
and  quills.  Truly,  he  was  an  imposing  spectacle  to  the 
simple  minded  tribesman  and  they  looked  upon  him  with 
a  species  of  awe.  In  his  hand  he  bore  the  wing  of  an 
eagle.  He  took  up  his  position  in  a  very  conspicuous 
place  and  struck  an  attitude  very  much  like  some  of  the 
Indians  we  see  pictured  standing  on  some  eminence  with 
his  hand  shading  his  eyes  and  looking  far  away  over  the 
plains  in  search  of  something  of  interest.  The  Medicine 
Man  assumed  about  the  same  attitude,  using  the  eagle 
wing  to  protect  his  eyes  from  the  sun.  He  stood  motion- 
less for  a  period  lasting  about  half  an  hour,  gazing  in 
the  direction  of  the  blazing  sun.  I  never  came  to  learn 
the  true  meaning  of  this  action  on  the  part  of  the  Med- 
icine Man,  but  I  presume  he  expected  to  discover  some 
supernatural  visitor  coming  from  the  direction  in  which 
he  was  gazing.  I  can  readily  imagine  what  his  conster- 
nation would  be  if  one  of  our  modern  aeroplanes  passed 
close  over  his  head  while  he  was  making  observations 
of  the  heavens.  There  is  no  doubt  he  would  drop  his 
eagle  wing  and  make  a  dash  for  his  teepee  laboring 
under  the  impression  that  the  devil  was  out  making 
morning  calls.  Such  an  apparition  would  most  likely 
interfere  with  the  completion  of  the  programme,  and  the 
tribesmen  would  probably  seek  shelter  or  protection  from 
the  whirring,  roaring  monster,  in  the  depths  of  the  near- 
by timber.  However,  as  no  such  occurance  took  place, 
the  Medicine  Man  continued  his  vigil  until  such  time  as 
he  thought  proper  to  terminate  it.  Upon  his  return  to 
camp,  the  tomtom  sounded  and  the  dance  was  on.  All 
the  braves  fell  into  line,  and  the  pow-wow  started  with 
each  brave  keeping  step  to  the  beatings  of  the  primitive 
instrument.No  squaws  were  permited  to  engage  in  the 


200  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

ceremony  as  it  was  to  be  a  strict,  test  of  physical  en- 
durance. Much  less,  are  white  men  permited  to  partic- 
ipate in  the  Sun  Dance,  as  this  is  an  institution 
particularly  appropriated  to  the  Indian  tribes.  The 
squaws  had  their  share  of  the  work  to  do,  and  while 
the  ceremony  was  going  on,  they  spent  their  time  in 
making  preparations  for  the  feast  that  was  to  follow 
upon  the  completion  of  the  dance.  The  young  men  who 
were  not  otherwise  engaged  and  who  did  not  care  to 
undergo  the  terrible  ordeal  about  to  follow,  mounted  their 
ponies  and  scoured  the  plains  for  game.  This  was  a 
necessary  undertaking,  as  the  amount  required  to  supply 
the  throng  present  with  food,  was  very  great.  True, 
each  tribesman  brought  some  provisions,  but  that  supply 
would  be  inadequate  to  the  demands  of  such  an 
occasion. 

If  any  white  man  had  an  opportunity  to  witness  the 
proceedings  of  the  Sun  Dance,  he  would  most  likely 
arrive  at  a  very  erroneous  idea  of  the  intent  and  purpose 
of  the  occasion,  nor  would  he  understand  the  significance 
of  what  he  might  see.  The  wild,  wierd  scene  before 
him,  the  fantastic  movements  of  the  participants  in  the 
drama  would  probably  create  in  his  mind  a  false  im- 
pression of  the  nature  and  character  of  the  ceremony. 
However,  to  arrive  at  the  true  meaning  of  what  was 
being  done,  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  the  heads  of 
numerous  families  were  present  on  the  occasion  I  speak 
of,  to  do  homage  and  worship  the  Great  Spirit,  and  offer 
thanks  for  favors  received  in  the  past.  This  goes  to 
show  that  the  Indian  was  not  unmindful  of  his  obligation 
to  the  Great  Spirit,  but  brings  out  to  our  view  a  side 
of  the  Indian  character  that  is  very  seldom  mentioned  by 
those  who  appear  or  seem  to  know  all  about  him.  They 
were  grateful  for  the  gifts  received  from  the  hand  of 
their  Creator  and  on  occasions  of  this  kind  strove  to 
show  it.  They  probably  had  some  friend  or  relative 
who  escaped  from  some  calamity.  If  so,  this  was  the 
occasion  on  which  they  showed  their  gratitude  to  the 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  201 

Father  of  all.  Perhaps,  some  of  them  had  wives  and 
children  who  had  recently  recovered  from  some  ailment. 
If  so,  they  were  grateful.Sundry  were  the  purposes  for 
which  they  assembled  on  this  occasion  to  offer  up  their 
meed  of  praise  and  thanksgiving  to  the  Great  S'pirit. 
Their  devotion  was  as  sincere  and  deep-seated  as  the 
Pilgrims  who  made  long  pilgrimages  to  the  Holy  Land 
to  visit  the  sepulchre  of  Him  who  died  for  us  all.  The 
scoffer  may  not  be  able  to  see  it,  but  there  is  One  who 
sees  and  judges,  and  who  will  render  to  each  and  all 
the  just  reward  on  the  day  of  the  final  reckoning,  and 
the  Indian  may  not  be  as  bad  as  painted  when  seen  in 
the  light  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,  where  he  will  be 
judged  according  to  his  lights. 

When  the  hunters  have  returned  from  the  chase, 
each  deposits  in  the  commissary  department  the  trophies 
of  the  hunt,  antelope,  deer,  badgers,  coons,  rabbits.  All 
is  grist  that  is  brought  to  that  mill.  Even  the  dogs  con- 
tribute their  share  to  make  the  supply  equal  to  the  grand 
display  of  culinary  art  that  is  to  be  staged  at  the  close 
of  the  ceremony.  It  may  appear  strange  to  the  reader 
that  the  turkey  had  no  place  on  the  menu  card  of  the 
feast.  The  reason  of  this  lay  in  the  fact  that  the  Indian 
considered  him  too  cowardly  and  timid  to  be  food  fit 
for  the  brave  and  warlike  members  of  the  tribe,  as  it 
would  have  a  tendency  to  diminish,  if  not  destroy  their 
spirit  of  bravery  and  fortitude. 

In  the  meantime,  all  had  been  a  scene  of  activity 
in  the  ranks  of  those  who  were  contending  for  honors, 
as  I  have  mentioned  in  a  former  paragraph.  The 
tom-tom  had  sounded  the  call  to  the  test.  The  old 
warriors  and  the  young  bucks  who  were  out  for  pre- 
ferment, had  formed  a  procession  and  were  marching 
toward  the  ampitheatre.  The  old  bucks  who  had  won 
their  honors  on  the  war-path  were-  dressed  in  .their 
fanciest  blankets,  while  those  who  were  to  undergo  the 
ordeal  wore  nothing  save  the  breach-clout,  and  a  few 
feathers.  When  the  excitement  of  the  preliminary 


202  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

movements  had  taken  possession  of  the  young  men,  one 
of  the  most  reckless  of  the  young  bucks  broke  from  the 
ranks  and  began  to  dance  around  the  pole.  There  he 
gave  himself  up  to  a  frenzy  of  movement,  gyrating  and 
gesticulating  in  a  manner  marvelous  to  behold.  Swing- 
ing his  hands,  kicking  up  his  heels,  twisting,  twirling, 
performing  antics  of  all  kinds  supposed  to  be  of  the 
nature  of  warlike  movements,  he  all  the  time  gave  vent 
to  a  series  of  yells,  whoops,  and  screams  of  the  most 
unimaginable  kind.  At  the  proper  moment,  a  new 
feature  of  the  ceremony  took  place.  A  man  selected  for 
the  purpose  came  forth  bearing  a  knife  in  his  hand. 
His  duty  it  was  to  make  incisions  in  the  back  of  the 
aspirant  for  honors.  Two  incisions  were  made  on  each 
side  of  the  back,  about  half  an  inch  apart.  When  the 
knife  had  done  its  work,  the  flesh  was  raised  between 
the  gashes  and  a  skewer  of  wood,  much  resembling  the 
old-fashioned  husking  peg,  was  forced  through  the  flesh 
beneath  the  skin.  Around  the  projecting  ends  of  this 
was  tied  a  buckskin  thong  to  which  was  tied  a  lasso. 
This  operation  was  performed  on  b'oth  the  incisions. 
A  buffalo  skull  was  then  tied  to  the  lasso  at  its  further 
extremity.  The  operation  is  then  complete,  unless  the 
young  brave  should  request  an  additional  skull  which 
would  be  provided  if  convenience,  or  opportunity,  per- 
mitted. If  it  were  not  possible  to  provide  a  buffalo  head 
for  the  occasion,  the  skeleton  of  a  deer,  or  a  bear  would 
answer  the  purpose  as  well.  In  fact,  the  skeleton  of 
any  beast  of  prey  was  considered  to  suffice,  as  it  was 
supposed  to  engender  a  warlike  spirit  in  the  candidate. 
This  feature  of  attaching  the  skeleton  of  a  beast  of  prey 
was  not  always  performed  in  the  same  way,  as  some  of 
the  tribes  preferred  to  have  it  attached  to  their  breasts. 
When  properly  equipped  with  this  new  attachment, 
whether  buffalo  skull  or  skeleton  of  a  deer  or  other 
animal,  the  young  buck  was  then  turned  loose.  He 
joined  in  the  chanting  and  kept  step  with  the  other 
dancers,  but  did  not  mingle  in  the  ranks,  as  the  appen- 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  203 

dage  attached  to  him  and  dragging  along  might  interfere 
with  the  rythmical  movements  of  the  dancers.  He  did 
not  fail  to  keep  step  with  his  fellows,  nor  neglect  his 
part  of  the  singing,  but  confined  the  field  of  his  opera- 
tions, separate  from  the  others,  where  he  could  conduct 
himself  with  what  freedom  the  impediment  he  was 
dragging,  would  permit.  There  he  discovered  himself 
confronted  with  difficulties  at  several  points,  as  the 
buffalo  skull  might  become  entangled  in  a  tuft  of  grass 
and  intensify  the  pain  he  was  already  suffering  so  hero- 
ically. In  case  of  difficulty  of  the  kind,  he  received  no 
assistance  from  outside  sources,  but  was  compelled  to 
wiggle  and  twist  until  he  succeeded  in  loosing  it  from  its 
hold  or  tore  the  flesh  and  skin  from  his  back.  It  might 
happen  that  the  first  obstacle  that  he  met  would  break 
the  fleshy  bonds  that  hold  the  skewers  in  pla.ce,  and  fre'e 
him  from  his  burden,  or  he  might  drag  his  burden  around 
for  days.  Oftentimes,  in  a  spirit  of  playfulness,  some 
young  redskin,  promped  by  the  genius  of  mischief,  would 
jump  on  the  skull  and  tear  it  loose  from  its  moorings, 
but  lacking  this  fortuitious  event,  and  weary  of  the 
burden,  he  would  frequently  in  desperation  wilfully  be- 
come entangled  in  something  or  'other  and  break  it  of 
his  own  volition.  When  he  became  detached  from  the 
buffalo  skull  in  the  manner  described,  there  necessarily 
was  left  a  gaping  wound  with  ragged  edges.  Then  he 
received  attention  from  the  Medicine  Man  who  was  close 
at  hand  for  such  an  'emergency.  With  his  knife  he 
trimmed  off  the  rough  edges  and  expectorated  the  juice 
of  some  herb  which  he  had  been  chewing,  into  the  wound. 
This  remedy  was  supposed  to  be  sufficiently  potent  to 
eradicate  any  infection  that  might  be  lurking  there, 
and  produce  beneficial  results  owing  to  the  healing  qual- 
ities of  the  plant  ire  masticated.  That  was  the  total  of 
the  medical  treatment  the  candidate  received  during  the 
whole  term  of  his  torture.  Frequently  there  were  as 
many  as  a  dozen  candidates  on  trial  at  the  same  time, 
and  all  were  compelled  to  endure  the  same  torture.  It 


204  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

frequently  happened  that  some  of  them  weakened  by 
hunger  and  exhausted  from  the  pain  they  were  suffering, 
fell  in  a  swoon.  If  such  were  the  case,  he  was  left  where 
he  fell,  and  no  attempt  was  made  to  render  him  any 
other  assistance  than  throwing  a  buffalo  robe  or  blanket 
over  him  where  he  lay.  There  they  permitted  him  to 
lie,  to  recover  or  die  as  the  case  might  be.  It  made 
no  difference  to  the  other  dancers  what  his  condition 
might  be,  they  continued  their  gyrations  apparently 
indifferent  to  the  condition  of  the  victim  of  hunger  and 
troture  beneath  the  blanket.  If  he  revived,  he  began 
again  his  dancing  and  chanting  as  though  there  had 
been  no  interruption,  which  he  continued  until  freed  from 
-his  burden.  The  test  is  the  same  for  all,  and  the  atten- 
tion and  medical  assistance  rendered  is  identical  in  every 
case. 

As  I  said  before,  other  tribes  prefer  to  have  the 
incisions  made  upon  their  breasts,  but  in  such  a  case  do 
not  bear  the  burden  of  a  buffalo  skull,  but  are  attached 
by  the  lariat  rope  to  the  limb  of  a  tree,  or  to  the  centre 
pole  of  the  ampitheatre  round  which  they  dance  until 
they  succeed  in  breaking  loose  by  tearing  the  skewer 
through  the  flesh  that  holds  it.  As  for  the  medical 
treatment,  it  is  the  same  in  all  cases. 

The  ceremony  is  continued  until  the  supply  of  vol- 
unteers for  honors  is  exhausted.  Those  who  have  passed 
through  the  ordeal  successfully  are  in  line  for  promotion 
to  the  higher  offices  of  their  respective  tribes  providing 
a  vacancy  occurs  through  death  or  accident.  They  are 
considered  the  proper  material  to  fill  the  offices  of  chief. 
They  have  been  put  through  a  test  sufficiently  harsh  to 
try  the  heart  and  soul  to  its  utmost  capacity  for  suffer- 
ing. Their  courage  and  constancy  was  beyond  question, 
and  henceforth  were  looked  upon  as  men  having  a  prior 
right  to  fill  the  place  of  any  old  chief  who  might  go  to 
the  Happy  Hunting  Grounds.  They  were  not  only  proud 
that  they  had  borne  the  test  successfully,  but  also  were 
more  pleased  that  they  had  lived  up  to  the  traditions  .of 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  205 

the  family.  They  were  firm  believers  in  heredity,  and 
were  proud  of  the  distinction  of  being  descended  from 
some  former  warrior  of  prominence  as  the  present  day 
white  man  is  jealous  of  his  descent  from  the  first  colonists 
who  came  over  in  the  Mayflower.  I  have  met  Indians 
who  gloried  in  their  descent  from  Roman  Nose,  Black 
Kettle  and  other  noted  leaders  who  have  long  since  passed 
away,  and  I  have  found  others  who  traced  their  lineage 
back  to  Tecumseh,  and  Black  Hawk. 

The  system  of  dancing  just  described  was  suppressed 
by  Col.  Woodson  whilst  he  was  in  charge  of  the  Darling- 
ton Agency,  as  he  considered  it  too  cruel  and  barbarous 
to  be  permitted  on  the  Reservation  because  he  thought 
it  would  have  a  tendency  to  retard  any  progress  the 
younger  Indians  might  be  making  towards  a  more  civi- 
lized manner  of  life.  I  understand,  however,  that  Col. 
Woodson 's  order  was  rescinded  by  another  Commissioner 
of  Indian  Affairs  at  a  later  date,  and  they  are  now  per- 
mitted to  practice  it  in  a  modified  form. 

It  has  been  my  lot  to  witness  nearly  every  form  of 
dance  from  the  Irish  Jig  to  the  latest  form  of  Tango,  or 
Bunny  Hug,  Scotch  Reels,  the  French  Four,  the  Dutch 
Waltzes,  the  old  American  Cotillion,  and  the  Virginia 
Reel,  but  all  these  combined  and  set  in  motion  at  the 
same  time  to  the  wildest  and  weirdest  music  known  to 
the  white  race,  would  fail  to  produce  the  soul  thrilling, 
hair-rising  emotions  created  by  the  Cheyenne  Sun  Dance 
when  in  full  swing.  The  sound  of  Patrick  Gilmore's 
band,  in  its  palmiest  days,  would  be  as  the  twittering 
of  the  snow  bird  in  comparison  with  the  roar  of  the 
Rocky  Mountain  lion,  when  the  festivities  were  at  their 
height. 

When  the  time  limit  of  the  Sun  Dance  expired, 
everything  was  placed  away  for  future  use.  The  buffalo 
skulls,  sacred  utensils  of  the  feast,  were  carefully  se- 
creted, and  the  ampitheatre  removed.  Nothing  remained 
but  the  trampled  grass  to  show  that  anything  beyond 
the  ordinary  had  taken  place. 


206  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

The  Dance  having  been  completed,  the  feasting  be- 
gins. During  all  the  time  the  braves  have  been  engaged 
in  their  soul  thrilling,  hair-raising  performance,  the 
squaws  have  been  busy.  They  were  running  back  and 
forth,  making  preparations  for  the  banquet.  Some  spent 
their  time  skinning  a  coyote  or  other  animal,  others 
dressing  and  cooking  the  food  already  prepared,  others 
looking  around  for  choice  morsels  to  tempt  the  appetite 
of  some  lord  and  master,  as  they  felt  he  might  be  in 
need  of  something  delicate  to  meet  the  wants  of  a  stom- 
ach sensitive  from  long  fasting.  "Whatever  the  occupa- 
tion, they  were  all  busy,  as  the  number  to  be  waited  upon 
might  number  thousands.  It  was  no  easy  task,  but  they 
were  equal  to  the  occasion.  At  the  signal  given  as  be- 
fore, the  feast  is  on.  To  see  them  plunging  with  reckless 
abandon  into  the  midst  of  the  feast,  one  would  be  forced 
to  conclude  that  the  long  fast  had  little  effect  upon  their 
appetites  except  to  render  them  sharper.  All  thought 
of  the  stomach  being  in  a  delicate  condition  was  forgot- 
ten, and  the  chief  work  at  hand  was  to  give  undivided 
attention  to  devouring  as  much  of  the  viands  within 
reach  as  the  capacity  of  the  stomach  would  permit,  and 
that  was  some  capacity.  Nicety  of  choice  was  not  mani- 
fested to  any  great  degree,  for  their  hunger  was  usually 
at  such  a  pitch  that  they  could  devour  anything  that  the 
teeth  could  masticate  to  some  degree.  Here  you  might 
see  a  lordly  old  chief  manipulating  the  hurricane  deck 
of  a  gray  wolf,  or  a  skunk  with  wonderful  dexterity ; 
there  another  warrior  bold  making  a  savage  attack  upon 
a  handful  of  raccoon  claws,  and  so  it  went  from  one  end 
of  the  multitude  to  the  other,  each  earnestly  intent  upon 
demolishing  the  pile  of  viands  set  before  him  and  won- 
dering if  there  was  any  more  left  for  a  second  assault. 
The  time  generally  allotted  for  the  repast  was  sunrise. 
Then  'each  and  all  squatted  upon  the  ground  anxious  for 
the  welcome  ordeal  to  begin.  Sitting  on  their  haunches, 
facing  the  rising  sun,  not  a  word  was  spoken.  It  might 
have  been  that  they  were  too  worn  out  from  the  long 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  207 

fast,  or  perhaps  they  were  so  pre-occupied  with  the 
thought  of  the  great  spread  before  them  that  they  had 
no  inclination  to  talk,  but  the  more  probable  reason  is 
that  it  was  one  of  the  regulations  set  down  to  govern  the 
termination  of  the  festival.  No  matter  what  the  motive 
was  that  governed  the  conduct  of  the  throng  in  the  mat- 
ter of  maintaining  silence  and  avoiding  undue  noise,  the 
fact  was  that  they  set  to  the  work  of  supplying  the  wants 
of  the  inner  man  without  delay,  either  in  beginning,  or 
continuing  the  work  of  demolition.  All  the  rules  of 
etiquette,  as  prescribed  for  the  four-hundred,  were  sus- 
pended. It  was  a  case  of  "Reach  what  you  can,  and 
while  making  way  with  it  keep  the  eye  on  the  lookout  for 
more.  Anything  you  do  not  see  is  not  good  for  you." 
They  did  not  merely  eat  their  food,  they  seemed  to  ab- 
sorb it.  The  execution  was  rapid  and  effective,  and  the 
final  result  might  have  been  summed  up  in  a  huge  pile 
of  bones  from  which  the  meat  had  been  thoroughly  re- 
moved. 

The  breakfast,  as  one  might  call  the  repast  just 
Bended,  did  not  terminate  their  stay  in  the  locality,  but 
each  and  all  felt  it  a  bounded  duty  to  remain  as  long  as 
there  was  any  of  the  huge  pile  of  provisions  _remaining. 
They  were  all  jubilant  over  the  happy  termination  of 
the  ordeal,  and  the  young  men  who  had  endured  the 
test  successfully  strutted  about  with  a  pardonable  pride 
in  their  bearing.  Feasting  took  the  place  of  fasting  and 
all  were  merry  as  far  as  their  method  of  life  would  per- 
mit the  expression  of  that  feeling.  When  the  last  vestiges 
of  the  immense  store  of  game  disappeared,  they  all 
gathered  up  their  possessions  and  made  ready  to  set  out 
to  their  respective  camping  grounds.  Prior  to  their  de- 
parture they  held  a  sort  of  conclave  in  which  they  decided 
when  and  where  to  hold  the  next  meeting,  and  also  out- 
lined the  nature  of  tire  dance  to  be  performed  on  the 


208  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

occasion.  It  might  be  a  Medicine  Dance,  or  a  Green 
Corn  Dance,  or  some  other  festivity  peculiar  to  the  no- 
tions of  the  tribes  and  the  exigencies  of  the  occasion. 
Whatever  the  decision  was,  it  was  abided  by  faithfully 
on  the  time  appointed.  This  settled,  they  returned  home 
with  the  satisfaction  of  having  done  what  they  consid- 
ered a  duty,  and  felt  that  they  had  fulfilled  their  obliga- 
tions to  the  Great  Spirit. 

I  feel  very  much  indebted  for  the  above  description 
of  the  Sun  Dance,  to  a  lady  who  spent  many  of  her 
younger  years  among  the  tribe  who  conducted  it.  She 
is  familiar  with  the  customs  of  the  tribe,  knows  their 
traditions,  and,  in  fact,  may  be  considered  an  authority 
on  things  relating  to  the  history  of  that  nation.  Her 
name,  at  the  time  of  which  I  write,  was  Mina  B.  Ash- 
pard,  but  was  changed  by  the  Indians  to  Tat-ta-voe-e-tau, 
or  Blue  Beads,  on  account  of  the  string  of  blue  beads 
which  she  usually  wore  around  her  neck.  She  was  loved 
and  admired  by  the  whole  tribe,  but  particularly  by 
several  young  chiefs  who  sought  her  hand  in  marria.-o. 
Her  affections,  however,  leaned  to  another  direction  and 
she  afterward  married  W.  C.  Ross,  who  owns  a  large 
tract  of  land  adjoining  the  flourishing  City  of  El  Reno, 
the  Queen  City  of  the  North  Canadian.  Mrs.  Ross  is  to- 
day the  mother  of  a  large  family  of  sons  and  daughters 
who  are  a  credit  to  her  and  an  honor  to  the  State  of 
Oklahoma.  Even  today  she  delights  in  telling  how  she 
used  to  enjoy  riding  out  on  a  broncho,  lassoing  a  wild 
antelope,  or  deer,  and  dragging  it  back  to  camp  amid 
the  cheers  and  acclamations  of  the  whole  tribe. 

W.  C.  Ross,  through  his  foresight  and  good  business 
management,  succeeded  in  locating  his  family  allotments 
in  close  proximity  to  the  City  of  El  Reno,  as  I  have  men- 
tioned above,  and  his  location  proved  to  be  one  of  the 
most  valuable  in  the  Canadian  Valley.  By  its  increase 
in  value,  due  to  its  location,  and  by  his  knowledge  of 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  209 

farming,  he  has  placed  himself  and  his  family1  above  the 
reach  of  want.  He  is  educating  his  sons  and  daughters 
in  the  Catholic  School  of  El  Reno,  and  they  have  proved 
themselves  good  students.  Their  native  talents  devel- 
oped in  such  surroundings,  show  that  they  are  or  will 
be  capable  of  fulfilling  the  duties  of  responsible  positions 
in  the  very  near  future. 


CHAPTER  XX 

The  Adobe  Wall  Raid;  Reason  for  Description;  A  Day 

and  a  Night  of  Terror — Some  Hitherto  Unknown 

Heroes,  Etc. 

Before  setting  down  in  detail  the  series  of  events 
that  comprise  what  is  called  the  'Adobe  Wall'  raid,  I 
wish  to  put  forth  my  reason  for  undertaking  the  task 
of  making  known  to  the  public  an  event  that  will  long 
be  remembered,  not  only  by  those  who  took  part  in  the 
occurrence,  but,  also,  by  many  of  the  early  settlers  of 
the  then  Far  West.  So  many  accounts  of  the  above  men- 
tioned raid  have  been  written  that  it  is  impossible  for 
the  seeker  after  the  truth  in  the  matter  to  discover  what 
he  is  looking  for,  that  I  deem  it  proper  to  narrate  the 
story  of  the  raid  as  it  was  told  me  by1  one  of  the  most 
prominent  members  of  the  little  band  who  so  heroically 
defended  themselves  from  the  murderous  assault  of  the 
Indian  marauders.  So  much  has,  also,  been  written  in 
the  past,  that  sets  the  real  West  before  the  unenlightened 
in  a  manner  that  is  misleading,  that  I  think  it  fitting  to 
give  credit  to  whom  credit  is  due  wherever  it  is  due. 
The  ordinary  writer  from  the  East  is  not  in  a  position 
to  narrate  the  occurrences  of  the  West,  because  he  has 
no  immediate  knowledge  of  events,  and,  moreover,  when 
he  undertakes  to  set  them  before  the  public  after  re- 
ceiving them  from  another,  his  narrative  will  lack  the 
ring  of  truth  because  he  does  not  know  the  'environments 
and  the  atmosphere  of  the  events  he  is  trying  to  describe. 
True,  the  rank  and  file  of  readers  may  not  know  the  dif- 
ference, but  for  those  who  know  the  facts  of  the  case, 
the  effort  to  portray  the  history  of  the  West  by  writers 
who  have  gleaned  their  knowledge  by  hear-say,  is  pitiful 
and  puerile. 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  211 

In  regard  to  the  narrative  of  the  "Adobe  Wall" 
raid,  I  shall  state  again,  before  proceeding  farther,  that 
my  authority  for  the  facts  to  be  mentioned  hereafter 
was  a  member  of  the  fighting  squad.  I  have  had  the 
honor  of  the  acquaintance  of  several  of  the  individuals 
who  took  part  in  the  defense  of  the  place,  and  have  had 
the  story  related  by  them,  and  in  its  entirety,  they  all 
agreed  on  the  most  salient  features  of  the  narrative,  and 
being  men  of  integrity,  their  word  is  sufficient  guarantee 
for  the  truth  of  what  I  write  about  the  matter.  The 
story  I  tell  was  related  by  Jimmie  Langton.  If  the 
reader  wishes  any  corrobation  of  my  tale,  he  may  refer 
to  R.  M.  Wright,  Charlie  Rath,  or  James  Langton,  whose 
addresses  I  shall  append  to  the  end  of  this  article. 

The  "Adobe  Walls"  ranch  was  situated  about  one 
hundred  miles  west  of  the  north  line  of  the  Indian  Ter- 
ritory, and  about  thirty-five  miles  south  of  what  was 
then  called  No-Man 's-Land,  on  a  little  creek,  about  a 
mile  and  a  half  north  of  the  South  Canadian  River,  in 
what  is  now  called  Hutchinson  County,  Texas.  The  set- 
tlement consisted  of  one  sod  building,  a  saloon,  and  a 
blacksmith  shop.  The  sod  building  was  used  as  a  store 
and  in  it  occurred  the  chief  events  of  this  narrative.  The 
saloon  was  owned  by  a  man  who  went  by  the  name  of 
Jim  Hanrahan,  and  the  blacksmith  shop  was  operated  by 
Andrew  Johnson,  who  now  resides  in  Dodge  City, 
Kansas. 

The  store,  or  what  was  then  called  the  "Dobe 
Walls,"  was  owned  by  R.  M.  Wright,  Chas.  Rath,  and 
James  Langton,  better  known  as  Jimmie,  and  who  per- 
formed the  duties  of  book-keeper  for  the  firm.  As  I  said 
above,  I  am  indebted  to  Jimmie  for  the  facts  of  the  story 
as  he  was  the  only  one  of  the  partners  present  in  the 
store  at  the  time  of  the  raid,  the  others  being  in  Dodge 
City. 

Those  who  took  part  in  the  fight  numbered,  at  most, 
about  fifteen,  not  fifty  or  sixty,  as  some  writers  have  it. 
In  the  saloon  at  the  time  there  were  five  or  six,  but  their 


212  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

part  in  the  fray  was  only  a  minor  one,  as  the  Indians 
did  not  have  any  particular  purpose  in  making  an  attack 
on  that  place.  In  the  store  were  Jimmie  Langton,  Andy 
Johnson,  Billy  Tyler,  Miller  Scott,  A.  J.  Chappell,  Bat 
Masterson,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Olds,  who  did  the  cooking  for 
the  ranch,  and  six  or  seven  other  freighters  or  travellers 
who  happened  to  be  there  at  the  time. 

Of  the  Indians  who  took  part  in  the  raid,  I  shall 
enumerate  them  by  tribes,  with  their  chiefs. 

Big  Bow  led  the  Comanches  on  the  occasion.  Quanah 
Parker  was  not  present,  as  he  was  too  young  to  be  a 
participant  in  the  capacity  of  chief. 

The  Kiowas  took  part  in  the  raid  under  the  leader- 
ship of  Lone  Wolf.  This  gentleman  now  resides  in  Ho- 
bart,  Okla.,  and  has  become  so  much  converted  to  the 
white  man's  mode  of  life  that  he  wears  a  celluloid  collar 
and  a  derby  hat. 

The  Cheyennes,  who  played  no  small  part  in  ttoe  ex- 
pedition, were  led  by  Red  Moon,  Chief  Mininic,  and  Gray 
Beard.  Chief  Mininic  also  played  the  role  of  Medicine 
Man,  and  claimed  that  his  medicine  was  so  strong  that 
the  bullets  of  the  white  man's  gun  could  not  injure  him. 
However,  when  his  horse  was  shot  from  under  him,  he 
explained  the  matter  by  saying  that  the  bullet  struck  a 
part  of  his  horse's  anatomy  where  there  was  no  paint. 

Besides  the  above  mentioned  tribes,  there  were  the 
Arpahoes,  who,  however,  did  not  have  a  hand  in  the 
fight.  True,  they  had  come  for  the  purpose  of  extermin- 
ating the  white  man  from  the  buffalo-hunting  grounds, 
but  when  they  had  arrived  at  the  scene  of  action,  the 
Comanches  informed  them  that  they  were  not  to  take 
part  in  the  annihilation  of  the  pale-faces,  but  requested 
them  to  remain  in  the  distance  and  see  how  they,  the 
Comanches  and  their  other  friends,  would  put  an  end 
to  the  intruders  on  their  sacred  plains.  I  believe  it  was 
not  the  mere  quest  of  glory  that  induced  the  Comanches 
to  forbid  the  Arpahoes  taking  a  hand  in  the  extermina- 
tion of  the  common  foe,  but  rather  the  knowledge  that 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  213 

there  were  several  hundred  high  power  buffalo  guns  and 
an  abundant  supply  of  ammunition  that  would  be  part 
of  the  spoils  of  war  when  they  wiped  out  the  obnoxious 
white  man,  and  they  did  not  care  to  have  too  many  on 
hand  when  the  dividend  was  to  be  declared.  That  they 
would  surely  secure  such  a  prize,  they  had  no  doubt,  but 
whether  they  did  or  not  remains  to  be  seen. 

The  list  of  the  white  men  killed  on  the  occasion  of 
the  raid  is  comprised  of  only  about  half  a  dozen,  and 
nearly  all  of  them  were  killed  before  the  raid  took  place. 
There  were  the  Scheidler  brothers  who  were  slain  and 
mutilated  at  some  distance  from  the  ranch.  They  had 
gone  off  to  seek  new  pasture  for  the  cattle,  as  that 
around  the  ranch  house  was  completely  destroyed,  both 
by  being  eaten  off  and  then  being  tramped  out  of  the 
ground  by  the  stock.  According  to  the  usual  Indian 
custom,  they  were  also  scalped.  There  was  also  a  Mex- 
ican "  bull- whacker "  who  happened  to  be  camping  near 
the  Scheidler  brothers,  and  he  met  the  same  fate  as  they, 
and  a  negro.  The  only  other  death  among  the  wiiite 
folks,  was  that  of  Mr.  Olds,  who  met  his  end  in  a  very 
peculiar  manner,  as  will  be  shown  later  on  in  the  nar- 
rative. 

On  the  morning  of  June  27th,  1874,  the  Indians 
made  their  descent  upon  the  ''Adobe  Walls"  ranch. 
There  had  been  rumors  of  Indian  outbreaks  in  other 
parts  of  the  country,  but  those  present  at  the  ranch  on 
the  occasion  had  not  the  remotest  idea  that  there  was  an 
Indian  within  the  neighborhod  of  fifty  miles.  As  they 
did  not  come  with  the  blare  of  trumpets  to  announce  their 
arrival,  the  little  party  at  the  ranch  did  not  know  that 
death  and  destruction  was  prowling  in  the  neighbor- 
hood until  the  early  hours  of  the  dawn,  on  the  morning 
of  the  27th  of  June.  That  was  the  hour  the  Redskin  pre- 
ferred in  making  his  calls  upon  his  white  neighbors, 
especially  if  the  visit  was  to  be  one  of  a  warlike  nature, 
and  they  were  on  the  war-path  on  this  occasion.  There 
is  a  good  deal  of  philosophy  in  the  Indian's  reason  for 


214  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

i 

preferring  the  early  hours  of  the  dawn  for  his  first  at- 
tack. It  gives  him  an  opportunity  to  steal  upon  his 
enemy  unawares.  He  made  it  'his  business  to  hide  his 
approach  so  that  his  white  foe  would  fall  asleep  in  ap- 
parent security,  and  then  with  one  fell  swoop,  rush  in 
upon  him  and  deal  death  and  disaster  before  the  unsus- 
pecting victims  could  become  alive  to  the  dangers  of  the 
moment  until  it  was  too  late.  On  this  occasion,  they 
followed  their  usual  custom  and  crept  silently  on  the 
sleeping  inhabitants  of  the  little  hamlet.  The  first  warn- 
ing that  the  sleeping  white  men  had,  originated  in  the 
screams  of  the  negro  who  was  being  done  to  death  at 
the  door  of  the  ranch  house.  The  night  was  hot,  and 
for  the  sake  of  fresh  air  and  whatever  coolness  he  could 
find,  he  spent  the  night  in  a  wagon  box  at  the  door  of 
the  ranch.  Were  it  not  for  the  coolness  and  calmness 
of  Miller  Scott,  the  whole  party  would  have  suffered  the 
fate  of  the  negro.  As  soon  as  he  heard  the  first  scream 
of  the  unfortunate  black,  he  immediately  divined  that 
the  Indians  were  upon  them.  Without  a  moment's  de- 
lay, he  seized  his  gun  and  through  the  open  door  of  the 
ranch  poured  out  such  a  deadly  fusilade  of  shot  that  the 
invaders  were  compelled  to  flee.  The  shouts  of  the  In- 
dians and  the  roar  of  the  buffalo  gun  pouring  out  its 
relentless  fire,  soon  turned  the  little  peaceful  hamlet  into 
a  den  of  confusion.  How  many  there  were  in  the  attack- 
ing party'  at  that  moment  he  did  not  know,  and  apparently 
did  not  care,  for  he  was  determined  to  defend  himself 
against  all  odds  or  die  in  the  attempt  to  do  so.  Appar- 
ently the  Indians  had  enough  of  the  entertainment  offered 
on  that  occasion  as  they  withdrew  in  a  hurried  fashion 
to  the  protection  of  the  timbers  and  the  hills.  Nor  was 
Miller  Scott  the  only  one  that  took  a  part  in  giving  their 
unwelcome  guests  a  vigorous  welcome,  but  the  others  who 
played  their  parts  were  rather  slow  in  getting  into  action. 
They  had  just  awakened  from  a  sound  sleep  and  it  took 
some  time  for  them  to  realize  their  predicament,  but 
when  they  did,  there  was  no  further  delay,  but  they  set 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  215 

out  to  aid  Scott  in  repelling  the  attack  as  vigorously  as 
possible.  When  the  Indians  had  retreated  nursing  their 
discomfiture  and  several  wounds,  the  first  attack  was 
repulsed. 

The  object  the  Indians  had  in  view  was  to  get 
possession  of  the  stock  of  goods  and  fire-arms  that  were 
in  the  store.  Mr.  Langton  says  that  he  had  more  than 
one  hundred  buffalo  guns,  and  about  eleven  thousand 
rounds  of  ammunition.  Besides  these  desirable  commo- 
dities, there  were  on  the  outside  several  horses,  mules, 
and  oxen,  that  attracted  the  attention  of  the  Indians. 
There  was  also  the  additional  reason  that  they  wanted  to 
exterminate  the  buffalo  hunters  who  had  been  killing  off 
the  game  in  large  quantities,  shipping  the  hides  East,  and 
leaving  the  bulk  of  the  carcasses  on  the  ground  to  become 
the  food  of  coyotes,  wolves  and  buzzards.  They  had  laid 
their  plans  well,  and  as  far  as  they  could  see,  they  were 
sure  to  produce  a  successful  issue,  but  they  had  no  means 
of  knowing  that  a  negro  teamster  would  offer  such  stren- 
uous objections  to  shuffling  off  the  mortal  coil  that  he 
would  arouse  the  whole  neighborhood  in  the  loudness  of 
his  protestations.  That  the  ranch  people  would  be  in 
a  position  to  offer  any  vigorous  resistance,  they  did  not 
dream.  They  knew  they  had  that  little  band  of  pale 
faces  surrounded,  and  there  remained  only  the  formality 
of  killing  them  with  the  usual  amount  of  ferocity,  take 
their  goods  and  return  to  their  camping  grounds  and 
plot  another  raid.  For  the  ranch  folks,  there  was  noth- 
ing to  do  but  fight  like  grim  death.  One  thing  favored 
the  little  band  in  the  ante-chamber  to  eternity.  The 
walls  of  the  building  were  about  three  feet  thick  and 
were  impervious  to  the  bullets  from  such  guns  as  the 
Indians  then  had.  It  was,  moreover,  impossible  to  set 
fire  to  the  building  from  a  distance,  as  the  invaders  tried 
that  procedure  later  on  and  failed.  As  far  as  guns  and 
fire  were  concerned  they  were  as  safe  as  if  they  were 
defended  by  the  Rock  of  Gibraltar. 

Nor   were    things    inside    the    adobe    building   very 


216  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

inviting.  They  all  realized  that  it  was  no  holiday  affair. 
In  fact,  most  of  them  had  just  about  come  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  they  were  about  to  assist  af;  their  own  funeral 
with  the  flowers  and  music  lacking.  Nor  could  one  blame 
them  for  feeling  that  things  had  a  very  hopeless  appear- 
ance. There  they  were,  a  mere  handful,  surrounded  by 
hundreds  of  hostile  Indians  in  war  dress,  ready  to  swoop 
down  upon  them  at  any  time,  without  the  least  chance 
of  assistance  from  outside  sources.  If  anything  were  to 
be  done,  it  had  to  be  done  by  themselves,  or  perish  in 
the  attempt.  It  was  certainly1  critical  enough  to  try  the 
stoutest  heart.  I  have  no  doubt  that,  at  the  first  charge, 
there  were  not  half  a  dozen  of  them  that  were  fully  aware 
of  what  was  occurring  around  them,  and  whatever  they 
did,  they  performed  on  the  spur  of  the  moment  because 
they  saw  others  doing  it.  Some  of  them  became  so 
excitedly  helpless  that  they  were  unaccountable  for  what 
they  did,  and  it  was  providential  that  they  did  not  do 
anything  imprudent.  Others  became  nauseated  and 
freely  parted  with  the  contents  of  their  stomachs.  Mr. 
Langton  confesses  that  he  himself  became  so  overcome 
with  the  realization  of  the  horror  of  the  situation  that 
he  too  parted  with  his  supper  of  the  night  before  and 
the  only  reason  why  he  did  not  lose  his  breakfast  was 
that  he  had  not  had  time  to  eat  it  when  the  first  attack 
was  made.  He  recovered  his  composure  hurriedly,  as  the 
exigences  of  the  situation  were  such  that  one  could  readily 
forget  a  little  inconvenience  when  one's  life  was  at  stake. 
After  the  first  display  of  nervousness  had  passed  he  did 
his  duty  like  a  man,  and  played  a  very  important  part  in 
the  defense  of  the  ranch.  It  is  not  to  be  imagined  that 
the  Indians  had  not  put  up  some  kind  of  a  fight.  The 
fact  of  the  matter  is  that  they  did  considerable  shooting 
in  their  own  behalf,  and  that  they  failed  to  accomplish 
anything  in  the  way  of  killing  the  white  folks  was  due 
to  the  fact  that  they  were  rather  hurried  in  their  move- 
ments. How  many  of  the  Indians  were  killed  in  this 
first  encounter,  it  is  not  possible  to  say,  but  the  sight 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  217 

of  several  empty  saddles,  and  several  lifeless  bodies  on 
the  ground  around  the  ranch  bore  testimony  to  the  fact 
that  the  bullets  from  the  buffalo  guns  had  done  some 
execution.  Stationed  at  the  one  window  of  the  store, 
stood  Miller  Scott  spiting  out  death  and  demoralization 
from  the  mouth  of  his  buffalo  gun  upon  the  savages  as 
they  madly  careered  around  the  place  on  their  wiry 
ponies.  Crack,  crack,  as  fast  as  he  could  push  home  the 
charge,  went  the  gun,  and  another  warrior  was  sent  to 
join  his  forefathers  in  the  Happy  Hunting  Grounds.  As 
soon  as  one  gun  became  too  hot  to  handle,  another  was 
put  in  his  hands  to  carry  on  the  defense.  Mr.  Langton 
personally  saw  to  it  that  he  was  amply  provided  with 
ammunition  and  guns  to  perform  his  duty.  Nor  were  the 
other  members  of  the  party  idle  all  the  while.  They 
punched  holes  in  the  sides  of  the  building  and  through 
the  opening  did  what  execution  their  opportunity  afford- 
ed them. 

It  was  an  appaling  situation  for  a  dozen  people  to 
be  over  a  hundred  miles  from  civilization,  surrounded  by 
five  or  six  hundred,  yelling,  whooping,  devil-daring  red- 
skins thirsting  for  their  blood.  There  they  rode,  painted 
in  all  manner  of  colors,  cavorting  like  demons  around 
them,  roaring  defiance,  and  threatening  at  every  moment 
to  break  through  the  zone  of  fire  and  burst  in  upon  them 
in  overwhelming  numbers  and  put  them  to  death  merci- 
lessly. It  was  well  for  them  that  they  did  not  lose  their 
nerve  completely,  as  the  situation  was  one  to  try  the 
stoutest  heart.  It  was  well  for  them  that  Miller  Scott 
rose  to  the  importance  of  the  occasion  and  dealt  out 
such  a  rain  of  death  dealing  bullets  as  to  appal  the 
intrepid  Indians.  Outside  roared  and  ranged  the  howling 
mob  and  inside  things  were  not  any  too  assuring.  Poor 
Mrs.  Olds  fainted.  She  was  the  only  woman  in  the 
hamlet.  Kind  hands  poured  water  on  her  face  until 
she  revived.  When  she  recovered  her  senses,  the  realiza  • 
tion  of  the  predicament  in  which  they  all  were,  and 
particularly  the  awful  fate  that  awaited  her,  if  they 


218  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

were  overcome,  so  overpowered  her  that  she  tried  to 
commit  suicide.  She  set  up  a  series  of  yells  and  screeches 
in  her  fright,  that  the  Indians  outside  must  have  thought 
they  were  killing  one  another  to  save  themselves  from 
butchery.  Strong  hands  prevented  her  from  doing  vio- 
lence to  herself,  but  there  was  no  way  to  prevent  her 
screeching,  and  the  only  thing  to  do  was  to  give  her 
freedom  to  screech  until  she  became  exhausted. 

In  the  meantime,  the  Indians,  feeling  that  their  at- 
tack was  somewhat  of  a  failure  withdrew  to  the  shelter 
of  the  hills.  According  to  the  words  of  an  old  timer, 
the  first  assault  upon  the  place  was  not  a  howling  suc- 
cess. But  the  little  party  in  the  ranch  knew  that  they; 
would  return,  and  they  made  what  preparations  they 
could  to  entertain  them  on  their  arrival.  They  did  not 
seem  to  be  in  any  particular  hurry  about  making  the 
second  attack,  as  in  the  distance  could  be  seen  Indians 
riding  in  pairs,  scurrying  back  and  forth  on  their  war 
ponies,  dragging  the  dead  and  wounded  between  them. 
All  of  the  rider  that  was  visible  was  an  arm  and  a  leg. 
They  made  a  dash  on  each  side  of  a  fallen  victim,  and 
seizing  him  by  the  hair,  dragged  him  to  a  place  of  safety, 
either  for  the  attention  of  the  Medicine  Man,  or  for 
burial.  Whenever  an  opportunity  presented  itself  to  the 
little  band  of  whites  to  take  a  shot  at  them,  they  did  so, 
and  in  this  manner,  if  they  did  not  do  much  damage, 
they,  at  least,  hastened  their  movements  to  a  considerable 
degree. 

The  little  party  within  the  ranch  was  delighted  with 
the  success  of  the  first  repulse.  None  of  them  had  been 
injured,  and  beyond  the  first  nervousness,  or  nausea, 
suffered  nothing.  They  realized  to  its  fulness  the  neces- 
sity of  meeting  the  marauders  when  they  returned. 
Every  man  saw  to  it  that  enough  weapons  were  within 
reach  for  immediate  use,  besides  having  near  at  hand  a 
dish  of  cartridges  for  rapid  reloading  when  the  fight  was 
at  its  zenith.  With  anxiety  and  nervousness  they  awaited 
the  second  attack.  They  did  not  have  long  to  wait.  In 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  219 

less  than  an  hour  after  the  first  repulse,  they  saw  them 
breaking  over  the  hills  and  descending  upon  them  in 
dense  array.  On  they  came  chanting  their  war  songs, 
or  raising  their  raucous  voices  in  wild  war  whoops  in  the 
weirdest  manner  possible.  For  some  reason  or  other, 
they  seemed  to  halt  at  some  distance  from  the  ranch. 
Out  of  their  midst  rode  a  chief,  who  swept  on  his  way 
chanting  wildly,  dragging  a  dry  buffalo  hide  by  the 
tail.  Apparently  he  was  trying  to  incite  them  on  to 
glory  by  performing  a  deed  of  valor.  It  may  have  been 
that  they  were  a  trifle  bashful  about  exposing  themselves 
to  the  galling  fire  of  the  little  band  entrenched  behind 
the  walls.  Whatever  the  reason  of  their  delay,it  had  no 
effect  upon  the  lone  rider  who  advanced  fearlessly  up 
to  the  very  door  of  the  ranch,  gesticulating  in  a  wild 
manner.  He  threw  the  hide  upon  the  ground,  and  with 
a  spring  from  his  pony  landed  upon  it  and  began  a  weird 
chant  to  incite  his  followers  to  follow  his  example.  To 
show  his  contempt  for  those  within,  he  seized  an  empty 
barrel  that  happened  to  be  standing  near  and  threw  it 
with  full  force  against  the  door  of  the  building.  Just 
as  he  let  fly  the  missile,  a  bullet  from  Miller  Scott's 
rifle  tore  its  way  through  his  chest.  He  gave  a  leap  into 
the  air  and  with  a  wild  shriek  fell  dead  upon  the  buffalo 
hide.  "When  his  followers  saw  their  chief  fall,  their 
enmity  was  aroused  and  on  they  came  in  one  wild  charge. 
Bullets  spat  upon  them  as  they  came,  emptying  many  a 
saddle  in  their  wild  charge.  Pit,  pit,  the  bullets  sank 
into  the  three  foot  walls  of  the  ranch,  and  boom,  boom 
responded  the  buffalo  guns  in  a  roar  that  was  interrupted 
only  for  such  time  as  it  took  to  send  another  charge 
home,  and  then  they  boomed  again.  Indians  were  falling 
thick  and  fast,  dead  and  dying,  men  and  horses  were 
tumbling  about  on  the  open  plain  in  a  confused  mass. 
Pitilessly  the  little  band  poured  out  the  rain  of  bullets, 
until  no  living  being  could  stand  the  galling  fire.  The 
Indians  retreated  sullenly  before  their  deadly  aim,  to 
the  shelter  of  the  hills,  once  more. 


220  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

The  little  incident  of  throwing  the  empty  barrel 
against  the  door,  called  to  the  attention  of  the  defenders 
of  the  ranch  the  necessity  of  barricading  it.  In  the 
excitement  of  the  first  charge  they  entirely  overlooked 
that  important  matter,  arid  it  was  only  the  foolhardiness 
of  the  Indian  chief  that  called  the  matter  to  their  minds. 
As  soon  as  they  saw  how  much  they  were  exposed  to 
danger  through  their  oversight,  willing  hands  began  to 
pile  sacks  of  corn  and  other  commodities  against  the  door 
until  there  must  have  been  a  ton  of  material  stacked  up 
against  it.  Apparently  it  was  the  intention  of  the  chief 
to  break  in  through  the  door,  and  had  he  succeeded,  his 
followers  would  have  completed  the  work  begun  by  him. 
Happily  for  them,  Miller  Scott's  bullet  cut  short  his 
career,  and  probably  saved  them  all  from  death. 

The  death  of  the  chief  had  rather  a  chilling  effect 
upon  the  rest  of  the  invaders.  Instead  of  continuing 
the  rush  upon  the  place,  they  withdrew  to  a  rather  safe 
distance,  and  contented  themselves  with  doing  some  long 
range  shooting.  The  firing  became  desultory.  The  In^ 
dians  had  withdrawn  for  about  a  mile,  and  though  the 
buffalo  guns  would  carry  that  far,  it  was  practically 
impossible  to  do  any  accurate  shooting  at  such  a  distance. 
The  only  chance  of  doing  any  execution  was  possible 
when  any  of  the  Indians  gathered  in  any  prominent 
locality.  Then  a  bullet  from  a  buffalo  gun  would  sing 
around  them,  and  they  would  seek  safety  in  the  shelter 
of  the  hills.  Another  motive  that  impelled  the  besieged 
to  save  their  ammunition  was  that  they  did  not  know 
how  long  they  would  have  to  entertain  their  unwelcome 
visitors,  and  it  was  necessary  to  keep  that  thought 
in  mind. 

The  Indians  seemed  to  have  re-organized  again,  and 
once  more  set  out  to  make  their  third  attack  on  the 
resolute  little  band.  It  was  galling  to  their  pride  to 
think  that  a  mere  handful  of  pale-faces  wer-3  able  to 
withstand  their  onslaughts  so  successfully.  Besides,  it 
was  rather  disconcerting  to  have  the  principal  object  of: 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  221 

their  invasion  frustrated  just  when  success  seemed  to 
perch  upon  their  banners.  The  killing  of  the  few  in- 
habitants of  the  ranch  was  not  so  important  as  securing 
the  arms  and  ammunition  they  knew  was  stored  up 
behind  the  " Adobe  Walls."  It  was  doubly  galling  to 
the  Comanches  to  think  that  they  had  invited  the  Arpa- 
hoes  to  remain  out  of  the  fight  to  witness  the  extermina- 
tion of  the  hated  pale-face,  and  now  they  would  have  to 
suffer  the  humilation  of  defeat  where  they  expected  to 
return  laden  with  the  spoils  of  victory.  On  they  flew 
the  third  time,  urging  their  little  ponies  to  topmost  speed, 
m,ore  maniacal  than  ever  in  their  wild  shouts  and  ges- 
tures. Around  the  little  ranch  they  rode  in  a  fulisade 
of  shots  as  they  passed  and  repassed,  but  all  to  no  pur- 
pose. Their  ranks  were  thinning  through  the  unflinching 
fire  of  the  beseiged.  When  a  buffalo  gun  boomed,  it  was 
a  signal  for  an  Indian  to  throw  up  his  hands  with  a 
screech  and  fall  dead  or  wounded  from  the  back  of  his 
flying  steed.  The  nearer  they  approached  the  ranch,  the 
hotter  became  the  fire,  until  it  was  impossible  to  draw 
sufficiently  near  to  do  any  damage.  They  fully  realized 
that  their  shooting  had  been  in  vain.  They  experienced 
no  diminuation  in  the  rapid  fire  of  the  little  band  within 
those  three-foot  walls.  They  felt  that  it  was  useless  to 
attempt  to  take  the  place  by  assault,  and  consequently 
they  withdrew  beyond  the  range  of  the  guns  of  the  be- 
sieged, beaten.  Three  times  seemed  to  satisfy  their  efforts 
for  pillage  and  murder.  They  hovered  around  at  some 
distance  as  they  did  not  wish  to  abandon  their  dead 
and  wounded.  There  was  no  Red  Cross  Society  there 
to  attend  to  that  matter  for  them,  nor  was  there  any  flag 
of  truce  hoisted  to  denote  a  cessation  of  hostilities.  As 
far  as  the  besieged  were  concerned,  they  took  good  aim 
and  shot  to  kill  whenever  an  enemy'  came  within  range. 

Several  times  during  the  day  they  had  attempted 
to  recover  the  body  of  the  chief  lying  before  the  door 
of  the  ranch,  but  all  their  efforts  proved  futile.  They 
finally  gave  the  matter  up  for  a  time,  acting  as  though 


222  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

they  thought  the  whites  were  using  him  for  a  bait  to 
lure  them  on  to  destruction.  They  did  not  intend,  however, 
to  leave  him  there,  for,  during  the  night  that  followed, 
under  the  cover  of  darkness,  they  succeeded  in  removing 
the  body  from  where  it  lay.  Apparently  one  of  them 
sneaked  up  during  the  night  and  fastened  a  rope  around 
it,  hitched  the  other  end  to  a  pony  and  dragged  the  body 
off  to  their  encampment.  He  did  not  do  this  without 
attracting  the  attention  of  those  within.  Anxious  ears 
were  listening  for  every  move  outside,  and  when  they 
heard  the  body  begin  to  drag  along  the  ground,  they 
knew  that  someone  was  near,  and  they  immediately 
poured  out  a  volley  upon  the  rescuer.  If  they  did  not  hit 
him,  they,  at  least  compelled  him  to  hasten  his  footsteps 
on  his  way.  They  afterwards  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  rescuing  party  got  away  successfully  as  there 
was  no  sign  of  his  dead  body  encumbering  the  plain 
the  next  morning. 

As  may  be  imagined,  there  was  no  sleep  during  the 
night  that  followed  the  day  of  the  battle.  What  the 
Indians  could  not  do  during  the  light  of  the  day,  they 
might  attempt  at  night,  and  this  thought  kept  'every 
man  alive  to  the  exigencies  of  the  desperate  situation. 
Every  man  did  sentry  duty  all  night  long,  not  on  the 
outside,  as  that  would  have  been  suicidal,  but  within 
the  walls.  When  not  pacing  back  and  forth  across  the 
floor,  they  strained  their  ears  listening  at  the  openings 
in  the  walls  for  any  noise  that  would  indicate  the  ap- 
proach of  the  foe.  Light  they  had  none,  as  they  did 
not  dare  to  so  much  as  burn  a  match.  It  was  maddening 
to  have  to  spend  the  weary  hours  waiting  for  they  knew 
not  what.  They  tried  to  be  brave,  but  it  was  a  difficult 
matter  to  do  so  at  such  a  critical  time.  There  was  not 
a  one  of  them  that  was  not  willing  to  die  in  defense 
of  the  ranch,  but  the  uncertainty  of  the  situation  was 
more  galling  than  the  attack  itself.  Hour  followed  hour, 
each  one  seemed  an  age,  and  yet  there  was  no  sign  of 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  223 

another  assault.  Wearily,  anxiously  they  waited,  'each 
moment  dreading  what  the  next  might  bring. 

Morning  dawned  at  last  and  the  little  band  breathed 
easier.  They  felt  that  there  was  more  than  an  even 
chance  while  daylight  lasted.  The  condition  of  the  place 
was  deplorable.  With  weary  haggard  looks  they  gazed 
at  each  other  in  the  pale  morning  light  and  tried  to 
smile  encouragement  to  each  other  but  it  was  a  wan 
effort.  The  excitement  of  the  previous  day,  and  the 
anxiety  of  the  night  just  passed,  was  plainly  visible  on 
their  countenances.  But  one  thing  remained,  they  were 
undaunted  and  ready  to  face  their  foe  again  if  necessary. 
The  sanitary  condition  of  the  place  resembled  the  Black 
Hole  of  Calcutta  in  a  lesser  degree.  True,  they  had  food 
in  abundance,  but  their  water  supply  was  'exhausted. 
Fortunately  for  them,  there  was  a  supply  of  canned 
goods  in  the  store.  Some  of  these  they  cut  open,  and 
drained  off  the  liquid  to  quench  their  thirst.  It  was  not 
entirely  satisfying  as  water,  but  it  tided  them  over  a 
difficulty. 

In  the  meantime  the  silence  from  their  enemies  con- 
tinued to  cause  them  considerable  uneasiness.  They  could 
not  imagine  what  new  kind  of  deviltry  they  were  plan- 
ning to  effect  the  purpose  of  the  raid.  They  awaited 
another  attack,  but  apparently  it  was  either  being  de- 
layed purposely,  or  the  Indians  had  decided  to  forego 
any  further  attempt  on  the  place.  Which  of  the  two  it 
was,  they  did  not  know.  Finally,  when  their  anxiety 
became  unendurable,  Mr.  Olds,  the  husband  of  the  good 
lady  who  'had  stirred  up  so  much  excitement  in  the 
early  part  of  the  fray,  volunteered  to  make  a  reconnoitre. 
For  this  purpose  he  built  a  temporary  ladder.  When 
the  rude  implement  was  constructed,  he  ascended  to  the 
roof  of  the  building.  Then  he  proceeded  to  make  an 
opening  in  the  sod  roof,  through  which  he  might  make 
a  survey  of  the  country  in  the  neighborhood.  To  guard 
against  any  attack  from  nearby,  he  took  a  rifle  up  with 
him,  for  safety.  He  looked  out  through  the  opening  he 


224  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

had  so  laboriously  made,  and  reported  that  there  was 
not  an  Indian  in  sight.  All  were  overjoyed  at  this  bit 
of  information.  Then  Mr.  Olds  began  to  descend.  In 
some  way  or  other,  his  gun  caught  in  one  of  the  rounds 
of  the  ladder  and  was  discharged  when  he  was  about 
half  way  down.  With  a  lurch  from  the  ladder  he  fell 
heavily  to  the  floor.  Whether  from  the  force  of  the  blow 
as  he  fell  on  his  head  to  the  hardened  earth,  or  whether 
it  was  the  bullet  that  struck  him,  his  brains  were  scat- 
tered round  about  in  gruesome  fashion.  It  was  a  very 
unfortunate  occurance,  and  it  cast  a  gloom  over  the 
whole  party.  Mrs.  Olds  was  heartbroken  over  the  sudden 
and  untimely  death  of  her  husband.  Needless  to  say, 
the  other  members  of  the  heroic  little  band  offered  her 
what  consolation  their  rough  ways  would  permit.  As 
she  had  just  experienced  the  fidelity  of  the  manhood 
around  about  her,  she  was  much  comforted,  but  it  was 
hard  to  bear  the  burden  of  her  loss  with  the  evidence  of 
the  accident  before  her. 

When  the  first  duties  to  the  afflicted  had  been  ac- 
complished, others  thought  of  the  feasibility  of  making 
a  more  extended  reconnoitre  from  the  outside  of  the 
ranch.  There  was  also  another  reason  for  wishing  to 
breathe  again  the  pure  air  of  the  plains.  Their  water 
supply  needed  replenishing,  as  they  were  all  suffering 
in  some  degree  from  the  want  of  it.  With  anxious 
hearts,  they  removed  the  barricading  sacks  from  the  doo»* 
and  prepared  for  what  might  come.  Andrew  Johnson 
proposed  that  some  one  should  go  for  water,  and  offered 
to  make  the  journey  himself.  To  this  they  all  agreed. 
He  took  a  bucket  and  as  he  stepped  out,  he  took  a  go-  d 
look  around  forj  any  possible  redskin  that  might  be 
lurking  in  hiding.  Seeing  nothing  to  indicate  the  pres- 
ence of  the  foe  in  the  neighborhood,  he  set  out  for  the 
creek.  His  companions  covered  his  journey  all  the  way 
with  their  buffalo  guns,  so  that  if  any  Indian  put  in 
an  appearance,  they  would  have  either  driven  him  to 
flight,  or  adorned  the  landscape  with  his  remains.  Hap- 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  225 

pily  for  all,  no  foe  appeared  and  Mr.  Johnson  made  the 
journey  without  molestation.  When  he  returned,  he 
was  gre'eted  by  his  friends  in  misfortune,  with  all  manner 
of  expressions  of  gratitude.  As  there  was  no  indication 
of  the  presence  of  the  foe,  they  did  not  barricade  the 
door  again. 

The  next  move  was  to  send  out  scouts  to  discover, 
if  possible,  whether  there  was  any  further  danger  of 
attack.  Needless  to  say,  they  did  not  wander  far  afield, 
as,  just  then,  it  was  a  \vise  proceeding  to  be  in  close 
proximity  to  the  base  of  supplies  and  protection.  Those 
who  did  not  go  on  the  scouting  tour,  performed  the 
humane  task  of  burying  Mr.  Olds,  and  those  who  had 
been  killed  outside  the  ranch  house.  With  what  tender- 
ness their  natures  possessed  they  laid  away  the  mortal 
remains  of  their  companion  not  far  from  the  spot  where 
they  had  spent  such  a  heart-rending  day  and  night.  As 
for  burying  the  Indians  that  lay  around  them  on  the 
plain,  they  left  that  part  of  the  duty  to  the  coyotes  and 
the  buzzards.  At  least,  I  have  never  heard  of  any  burial 
service  being  read  over  them  on  that  occasion.  Such  a 
method  of  procedure  was  common  enough  in  those  days, 
as  it  seemed  to  be  the  usual  way  in  which  the  enemy 
regarded  the  disposal  of  the  remains  of  his  victims.  They 
could  not  be  charged  with  neglect  of  duty,  as,  of  all  the 
white  men  that  I  have  heard  of  being  scalped,  murdered, 
and  mutilated  in  any  part  of  the  West,  I  do  not  know 
of  one  case  where  the  Indian  ever  took  th'e  time  and 
trouble  to  bury  them.  There  is  more  truth  than  poetry 
in  the  remark  of  Gen.  Sherman,  that  "War  is  Hell,"  and 
the  little  skirmish  had  a  strong  resemblance  to  a  section 
of  the  infernal  regions  while  it  lasted. 

The  above  is  the  general  outline  of  the  fight  as  it 
occurred.  As  I  have  said  in  the  beginning,  my  authority 
for  the  truth  of  what  I  have  said  was  one  of  the  leading 
men  of  the  battle,  if  there  were  any  leading  men  in  that 
terrific  struggle  where  every  man  stood  up  to  the  fight 
like  a  'man.'  I  have  read  several  accounts  of  the  affray 


226  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

from  sources  that  are  unreliable.  As  a  proof  of  what  T 
say  in  that  regard,  though  the  article  purport  to  be 
written  by  soiree  one  who  had  a  hand  in  the  affray,  it 
is  apparent  that  they  did  not  write  them  personally,  but 
left  it  to  some  scribe  to  put  down  some  of  the  salient 
features,  passing  over  some  of  the  most  important  events* 
of  the  struggle.  How  would  it  be  possible  for  a  writer 
who  had  a  share  in  the  battle  to  forget  the  important 
part  played  by  Miller  Scott?  You  say  it  would  be  im- 
possible, yet  I  have  seen  accounts  of  the  battle  in  which 
he  is  not  even  mentioned.  How  could  he  forget  the 
tragic  death  of  Mr.  Olds?  However,  some  writers  fail 
to  mention  it.  How  about  the  killing  of  the  negro  in 
the  wagon?  And  some  of  them  narrate  the  story  in  an 
entirely  different  manner.  I  fear  that  the  imagination 
of  many  a  writer  has  filled  up  with  fancy  when  facts  of 
the  most  thrilling  kind  were  at  hand.  I  know  that  a 
writer,  in  narrating  a  hair-raising  episode,  under  the 
pressure  of  excitement  is  liable  to  overlook  some  im- 
portant feature,  nevertheless,  for  the  sake  of  accuracy 
and  truth,  he  should  revise  what  he  has  written  and 
correct  the  error  when  discovered  if  he  knows  it. 

To  satisfy  the  curiosity  of  the  reader  in  regard  to 
the  origin  of  the  Adobe  Walls,  and  how  it  happened 
that  there  were  buffalo  hunters  in  that  neighborhood  in 
preference  to  any  other  locality,  I  shall  append  an 
explanation  as  well  as  mention  many  of  the  old-timers 
who  followed  that  occupation. 

In  regard  to  the  origin  of  the  Adobe  Walls,  of  which 
some  writers  appear  to  know  nothing,  I  shall  narrate  the 
story  as  told  me  by  those  who  know.  The  original  walls 
were  built  of  brick  dobe  made  out  of  clay  and  grass,  and 
were  sun-dried  before  being  set  into  place.  Under  the 
ordinary  care,  these  walls  would  have  lasted  one  hundred 
years  or  more.  These  walls  were  built  by  the  Mexicans 
before  the  country  was  granted  its  freedom,  and  long 
before  it  entered  the  union.  There  was  a  chain  of  such 
structures  built  across  the  country  to  be  utilized  as 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  227 

trading  posts,  as  well  as  for  fortifications.  This  chain 
of  little  forts  extended  from,  the  Wichita  Mountains  down 
through  Texas  to  Mexico.  The  reason  of  their  being 
located  so  far  northward  was  due  to  the  fact  that  there 
were  mines  in  operation  in  the  Wichita  range  long  before 
the  country  gained  its  freedom,  and  these  forts  served 
as  protection  to  the  freighters  who  were  engaged  in 
transferring  the  ore  down  to  Old  Mexico.  When  Texas 
gaine<j  her  independence,  all  these  forts  and  supply 
stations  were  abandoned,  and  in  course  of  time  were 
rubbed  and  horned  down  by  the  countless  buffalo  that 
ranged  at  will  over  the  territory.  Then  the  country 
became  almost  a  waste,  the  home  of  the  buffalo,  the 
cougar,  and  the  other  wild  beasts  that  grew  in  number 
unmolested  by  man. 

About  thirty-five  years  ago  I  became  acquainted  with 
two  Mexicans  named  Romero.  They  told  me  that  they 
had  freighted  ore  from  the  Wichita  mountains  to  old 
Mexico,  and  that  if  I  would  go  with  them  they  would 
show  me  where  they  got  it.  As  I  did  not  know  anything 
about  mining  I  declined  the  kind  offer.  Today  there  are 
hundreds  of  men  exploring  these  mountains  in  search 
of  the  precious  metal,  and  if  ever  they  come  upon  the 
site  of  the  Mexican  mines,  their  fortune  is  assured. 

In  regard  to  the  presence  of  the  buffalo  hunters  near 
the  Adobe  Walls,  I  am  compelled  to  say  that  they  were 
there,  more  by  necessity  than  by  choice.  The  trail  passed 
by  the  Adobe  Walls  and  offered  an  opportunity  for  the 
hunters  to  ship  their  hides  into  Dodge  City,  the  only 
trading  post  within  the  radius  of  over  a  hundred  miles. 
They  were  compelled  to  pitch  their  camp  where  they 
could  find  water  for  their  stock  as  well  as  for  themselves. 
For  this  reason  they  located  themselves  at  the  head  of 
Wolf  Creek,  in  what  is  now  Ochiltree  county,  Texas. 
Others  located  their  outfits  in  the  breaks  of  Clear  Creek, 
on  the  south  line  of  No-Man's  Land,  and  a  few  more 
were  established  in  the  hills  on  the  north  side  of  the 
South  Canadian  river,  and  west  of  the  Adobe  Walls. 


228  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

They  could  not  possibly  camp  on  the  flats  on  account 
of  the  scarcity  of  water.  There  extended  there  a  strip  of 
territory  thirty-three  miles  wide  where  there  was  no  water 
except  after  a  prolonged  wet-spell,  which  seldom  occurred. 
Regarding  the  other  conveniences,  such  as  fuel  and  other 
things,  they  had  little  difficulty,  as  the  buffalo  chips 
supplied  the  demands  in  abundance. 

As  an  aftermath  of  the  raid,  when  the  various  hunt- 
ing outfits  received  word  of  it,  they  assembled  on  Clear 
Creek  for  mutual  protection,  as  they  did  not  know  when 
they  might  receive  a  visit  from  the  same  band  who  would 
not  be  in  any  friendly  mood  after  the  defeat  at  the  Adobe 
Walls.  When  they  had  all  assembled,  they  began  to 
discuss  the  matter  from  all  angles,  and  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  most  prudent  thing  for  them  to  do  just 
then  was  to  move  into  Dodge  City  until  things  became 
more  settled.  Having  decided  what  to  do,  they  lost  no 
time  in  putting  the  plan  into  execution.  They  gathered 
up  their  belongings  and  set  out  on  their  hundred  mile 
drive  fully  alive  to  the  danger  of  the  situation.  They 
crossed  Beaver  Creek,  and  slowly  trudged  alon  gtheir 
way  over  the  divide  to  the  Cimmaron  River.  It  was  a 
rather  difficult  journey,  and  when  they  crossed  the  Cim- 
maron they  went  into  camp  to  give  their  stock  a  chance 
to  rest  up  and  enjoy  a  breathing  spell  themselves.  When 
the  stock  had  been  turned  loose  to  graze,  they  spread 
out  their  bedding  to  give  it  a  sun-bath.  Some  of  the 
boys  went  down  to  the  river  to  have  a  swim,  and  others 
went  off  in  search  of  game.  They  wanted  a  change  of 
diet  as  they  had  been  munching  buffalo  meat  three  times 
a  day  for  some  time  past  and  the  regularity  with  which 
it  came  became  monotonous.  George  Ray  and  Jim  Lane 
remained  at  the  camp  to  look  after  whatever  needed  at- 
tention, and  prepare  the  wagons  for  the  next  day's  jour- 
ney. Everything  was  going  along  peacefully  when  Lane 
happened  to  look  up  and  he  saw  an  Indian  coming  out 
of  the  mouth  of  a  canyon  not  more  than  a  hundred  yards 
away.  He  spoke  to  George,  and  they  both  grabbed  their 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  229 

rifles  and  opened  fire.  As  they  were  seen  by  the  Indian 
first,  before  they  had  a  chance  to  shoot,  there  was  noth- 
ing visible  of  him  but  one  arm,  and  one  leg,  for  he  fell 
over  to  the  opposite  side  of  his  pony  and  put  him  on  the 
dead  run.  The  two  of  them  fired  three  shots  each  be- 
fore he  could  get  out  of  sight  into  the  canyon.  They 
told  me  afterwards  that  they  did  not  think  that  their 
shooting  had  any  more  effect  than  to  speed  the  Indian 
on  his  way. 

At  the  sound  of  the  shooting,  the  boys  who  were 
absent,  lost  no  time  in  returning  to  camp.  However, 
they  did  not  lose  the  object  of  their  hunting  expedition 
as  they  brought  back  a  fine  antelope.  When  the  matter 
had  been  discussed,  they  felt  somewhat  uneasy,  but  as 
no  other  Indian  appeared  in  the  neighborhood,  they  did 
not  become  unduly  alarmed.  They  spent  what  remain- 
ing time  they  had  before  making  their  departure  in  cut- 
ting up  their  meat  and  curing  it  for  future  use.  They 
were  soon  on  their  way  again.  They  crossed  the  river, 
and  pulled  through  the  sand  hills  out  on  the  Adobe  Walls 
trail.  Their  journey  led  them  across  Crooked  Creek, 
then  over  the  divide.  On  their  way  they  m;et  General 
Nelson  A.  Miles  at  Mulberry.  He  was  leading  his  troops 
to  the  assistance  of  those  men  who  were  at  the  Adobe 
Walls,  but  that  was  hardly  necessary  then,  as  the  dis- 
turbance caused  by  the  raid  had  in  a  great  measure  sub- 
sided. The  buffalo  hunters  pursued  their  journey  to 
Dodge  City,  where  they  waited  until  matters  began  to 
adjust  themselves.  Some  of  them  then  returned  to  the 
range,  while  others  went  to  freighting,  some  to  Fort 
Supply,  others  to  Fort  Ellis,  or  Mobeetie,  Tex. 

There  were  no  cow  ranches  in  that  territory  at  the 
time  of  the  raid,  nor  for  some  years  afterwards.  For  the 
infomation  of  the  reader,  and  also  to  let  the  old-timers 
know  that  they  have  not  been  forgotten,  I  shall  give 
here  the  names  of  several  of  them.  I  knew  the  most  of 
them  personally  and  followed  their  interesting  careers 
with  pleasure. 


230  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

Nelson  Gary  and  Jim  Lane,  after  freighting  a  few 
trips,  built  the  first  house  where  Beaver  City  now  stands. 
They  went  into  the  mercantile  business  and  remained  at 
it  for  years  with  considerable  success. 

Jack  and  Bill  Combs,  George  Ray,  and  Johnny 
Loughead  continued  freighting  for  some  time  after  the 
Adobe  Wall  raid.  They  remained  at  this  occupation  un- 
til they  built  what  was  known  as  the  wild-horse  corral, 
on  Crooked  Creek,  north  of  the  County  Seat  of  Meade 
County,  Kansas.  This  they  maintained  for  some  years 
and  then  went  back  to  the  old  life  of  hunting  and  freight- 
ing. 

Bob  and  Jim  Cader  settled  down  on  Pladuro  Creek 
and  established  a  small  cow  ranch.  By  close  attention 
to  business  and  industry,  they  became  wealthy. 

Ben  Jackson,  another  old-timer,  hunter  and  plains- 
man, settled  on  Wolf  Creek,  about  five  miles  from  its 
source,  and  went  into  the  business  of  raising  cattle. 

I  could  mention  many  others,  and  I  knew  nearly  the 
whole  of  them,  who  were  engaged  in  the  business  of 
hunting  and  freighting  in  the  early  days,  but  their  num- 
bers, by  no  stretch  of  the  imagination,  would  ever  reach 
two-hundred  as  some  of  the  narrators  of  early  days 
would  have  it. 

I  shall  close  this  article  by  giving  the  present  loca- 
tion of  some  of  the  principal  actors  in  the  drama  of  the 
"Adobe  Walls." 

James  Langton,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah. 
Charlie  Rath, 

A.  J.  Chappell,  El  Reno,  Oklahoma, 
R.  M.  Wright,  Dodge  City,  Kansas, 
Miller  Scott,  Santa  Pe,  New  Mexico. 

I  trust  that  my  readers  will  see  from  the  internal 
evidence  of  the  narrative  just  given,  that  it  rings  true, 
and  when  reading  other  so-called  accounts  of  the  "Adobe 
Wall"  raid,  will  be  able  to  sift  the  truth  from  the 
fiction  which  such  writings  portray. 


CHIEF  DULL  KNIFE 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

The  "Dull  Knife"  Raid;  The  Indian's  Motive  for  the 
Same,  etc. 

The  summer  of  1877  found  the  Indians  as  active 
as  they  had  been  for  some  years  prior  to  that  date. 
They  had  long  since  come  to  the  realization  that  if  the 
buffalo  hunter  continued  his  destructive  work  upon  their 
base  of  supplies,  the  time  would  soon  come  when  they 
would  be  brought  to  the  verge  of  want.  They  had  so 
long  considered  the  buffalo  their  natural  source  of  sus- 
tenance that  they  could  not  behold  the  plains  depopu- 
lated of  the  vast  herds  without  offering  some  kind  of 
protest,  and  the  only  one  that  appealed  to  him  was  the 
rifle,  and  the  tomahawk.  Prior  to  '77  they  had  levied 
a  heavy  toll  upon  the  settlers  in  varied  shapes  of  depre- 
dations. They  murdered  wantonly,  they  carried  into 
captivity  many  wives  and  daughters  of  the  settlers,  they 
ran  off  the  stock  and  what  they  did  not  take  away  they 
destroyed.  Things  had  come  to  such  a  pass  that  the 
settler  had  to  be  protected  if  the  vast  plains  were  to  be 
opened  up  to  agriculture,  or  ranching.  With  the  removal 
of  the  buffalo,  the  cattle  man  would  have  an  opportunity 
of  stocking  the  vast  territory  with  marketable  beef,  or 
the  farmer  would  be  able  to  convert  the  boundless  acres 
of  the  plains  to  the  production  of  much  needed  cereals. 
Hence  it  came  to  pass  that  the  U.  S.  soldier  took  a  very 
active  part  in  affording  protection  not  only  to  the  scat- 
tering settlers  who  were  brave  enough  to  risk  the  dangers 
of  Indian  incursion,  but  also,  to  the  cattlemen  who  were 
rapidly  filling  the  plains  with  herds  to  replace  the  once 
numberless  buffalo.  Miners  and  freighters  also  came  in 
for  their  share  of  protection  from  the  lawless  incursions 
of  the  marauding  natives  of  the  plains.As  a  consequence 


232  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

of  the  activity  of  the  army,  several  bands  of  hostile 
Indians  were  captured  and  placed  on  reservations. 
Amongst  the  contingents  brought  in  was  Dull  Knife 
with  his  followers.  They  wrere  held  under  surveillance 
at  Red  Cloud  Agency,  Nebraska,  until  an  order  was 
issued  by  the  Department  to  Capt.  Lawton,  telling  him 
to  take  charge  of  the  Dull  Knife  Band,  and  take  them 
under  military  escort  to  Ft.  Reno  Reservation,  Indian 
Territory.  This  order  was  promptly  complied  with,  and 
he  started  southwards  and  located  them  on  the  above 
mentioned  Reservation  without  any  trouble  or  annoy- 
ance on  the  part  of  Dull  Knife. 

In  might  be  well  to  interpolate  here  an  assertion 
of  Dull  Knife,  as  it  will  explain  some  of  his  future  con- 
duct. He  made  the  claim  that  he  surrendered  under 
a  promise,  or  form  of  agreement  that  in  case  he  should 
become  disssaitfied  with  the  Darlington  Agency  at  Ft. 
Reno,  he  would  be  allowed  return  to  his  northern  hunt- 
ing grounds  again.  I  cannot  vouch  for  the  truthfulness 
of  the  statement,  but  will  let  it  pass  for  what  it  is  worth. 
The  fact .  of  the  matter  is  that  he  was  only  a  very  short 
time  at  the  Darlington  agency  before  he  began  fomenting 
trouble.  He  managed  to  render  himself  obnoxious  as  pos- 
sible to  every  one  with  whom  he  had  any  dealings.  John  D. 
Miles  was  in  charge  of  the  Darlington  Agency  at  the 
time,  and  Major  Misner  was  in  command  of  Ft.  Reno. 
They  each  of  them  kept  a  close  scrutiny  on  every  move- 
ment of  their  distinguished?  guest,  as  his  reputation  for 
being  a  disturber  among  the  Indians  as  well  as  amongst 
the  whites  had  preceded  him,  and  they  soon  discovered 
that  his  change  of  base  did  not  change  his  disposition 
for  the  better,  in  fact,  it  seemed  to  have  the  contrary 
effect  upon  him.  When  he  was  brought  into  the  reser- 
vation, the  agent  located  him  about  nine  miles  above 
Reno,  close  by  what  was  known  as  Dutch  Jake's  ranch, 
and  not  far  from  where  the  present  town  of  Calumet  is 
situated,  in  the  valley  of  the  North  Canadian.  He  was 
not  there  very  long  until  he  discovered  that  the  whole 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  233 

scheme  of  creation  seemed  to  be  out  of  harmony  with 
his  needs  and  comfort.  He  made  the  startling  discovery 
that  the  water  was  no  good,  that  the  grass  lacked  the 
nutritive  qualities  necessary  to  keep  his  ponies  in  good 
condition,  and  last,  but  not  least,  that  the  agent  was 
stealing  his  chuckaway  and  that  he,  his  family  and  all 
that  was  near  and  dear  to  him  were  fst  becoming  mere 
shadows  of  their  former  selves  owing  to  such  scantiness 
of  rations.  I  do  not  know  whether  there  was  any  truth 
in  the  claim  that  the  agent,  John  D.  Miles  was  guilty 
of  the  crime  charged  against  him,  but  this  I  feel  very^ 
safe  in  saying,  that  a  great  many  of  the  troubles  with 
the  Western  Indians  had  their  origin  in  just  such  prac- 
tices, as  has  often  been  shown  upon  investigation.  There 
are  usually  two  sides  to  every  question,  but,  in  the  case 
in  discussion,  whether  there  was  any  truth  in  the  charge, 
or  not,  I  am  safe  in  remarking  that  Dull  Knife  with 
less  provocation,  in  fact,  with  only  an  excuse  for  provo- 
cation, could  stir  up  more  strife  with  less  raw  material 
to  start  on  than  any  Indian  I  ever  knew  or  heard  of, 
and  certainly  lived  up  to  the  description  the  Irishman 
gave  of  his  wife,  when  he  was  carried  away  by  his 
feelings  of  resentment,  "Bad  luck  to  your  ould  head, 
ye 're  never  at  home  only  when  ye  are  abroad,  and  never 
at  peace  but  when  ye  are  at  war." 

The  condition  of  which  Dull  Knife  complained  with 
so  much  petulancy  and  bitterness  continued  to  exist 
during  the  winter.  However,  when  the  day  arrived  for 
the  Indians  to  draw  their  rations,  he  appeared  with 
the  rest  and  took  his  share.  The  manner  in  which  the 
cattle  were  turned  over  to  them  was  rather  peculiar, 
but  filled  the  bill  to  a  nicety.  At  the  time  appointed, 
they  all  adjourned  to  what  was  called  the  "issue"  pen 
where  the  cattle  were  turned  over  to  them  to  kill  after 
their  own  fashion.  As  soon  as  the  steer  was  turned 
loose  the  Indians  set  out  in  pursuit  of  him,  armed  with 
bows  and  arrows,  with  which  they  endeavored  to  des- 
patch him.  They  rode  alongside  of  him,  often  times 


234  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

the  distance  of  more  than  a  mile,  all  the  while  trying 
to  sink  their  arrows  into  some  vital  spot.  Many  a  wild 
race  they  had  after  some  refractory  steer  goaded  to 
desperation  by  the  wounds  inflicted  upon  him  by  the 
arrows.  As  soon  as  the  beast  fell  in  his  track,  the  pur- 
suers work  was  done.  The  attention  required  to  convert 
the  fallen  ste'er  into  food  was  given  by  the  squaws  who 
followed  the  pursuit,  some  on  foot  and  others  on  ponies. 
Arrived  at  the  death  scene  they  immediately  set  to  work 
with  their  skinning  knives  and  soon  had  the  steer 
divested  of  his  hide.  That  done,  they  made  short  work 
of  cutting  up  the  carcass  into  the  portions  allotted  to 
each  family.  Those  to  whom,  the  meat  was  distributed 
looked  after  the  conveyance  of  it  to  their  quarters 
in  whatever  manner  suited  their  taste  or  convenience. 
Some  wrapped  it  up  in  blankets,  others  hung  it  from 
their  saddles,  others  brought  into  service  a  gunny  sack 
or  any  other  article  that  would  suit  the  purpose  of  trans- 
porting their  share  to  their  dwellings.  In  the  work  of 
disposing  of  a  steer,  they  were  very  economical,  as  there 
was  very  little  left  of  it  when  they  had  finished  the 
work  of  dismembering  him.  Even  the  entrails  came  in 
for  their  attention.  The  smaller  intestines  they  usually 
relieved  of  their  contents  by  squeezing  between  their 
fingers.  When  they  had  them  sufficiently  cleansed  of 
all  foreign  matter,  they  braided  them  carefully  and  hung 
them  around  the  necks  of  their  ponies.  If  the  work 
happened  to  take  place  in  warm  weather,  by  the  time 
the  work  was  completed  there  was  usually  a  halo  of  flies 
encircling  each  squaw  to  accompany  her  on  her  home- 
ward journey  The  bucks  seldom,  if  ever,  took  a  hand 
in  the  butchering  as  they  considered  that  work  beneath 
the  dignity  of  a  warrior.  A  few  years  later  this  system 
of  disposing  of  the  cattle  was  abolished  by  an  order 
issued  from,  the  Indian  Department  at  Washington,  as 
the  officials  considered  that  manner  of  killing  a  beast  too 
barbarious  and  cruel.  To  accomplish  the  end  desired, 
they  had  the  Agent  select  a  good  marksman  to  go  into 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  235 

the  issue  pen  and  shoot  the  animal  selected  for  each 
family.  Then  the  beast  was  dragged  outside  and  the 
family  to  whom  it  was  apportioned,  dressed  it  and  made 
the  division  of  it  that  suited  their  fancy.  On  the  day 
of  "issue,"'!  have  frequently  sat  for  hours  watching  the 
aborigines  at  their  w^ork,  and  I  must  say  that  outside  of 
a  few  little  things,  the  scene  had  a  certain  amount  of 
fascination  for  me.  Here  I  had  an  opportunity  to  study 
the  Indian  at  close  range,  and  I  found  it  far  from  un- 
interesting. However,  education  and  environment  has 
wrought  considerable  change  in  the  habits  and  customs 
of  the  natives  of  the  plains,  though  it  was  a  somewhat 
difficult  matter  to  break  away  from  the  mode  of  life 
founded  upon  years  of  existance  under  a  species  of  wild 
and  untrammeled  freedom  such  as  they  enjoyed  before 
they  came  under  the  dominion  of  the  white  man.  I  have 
oftentimes,  in  my  travels  over  the  plains  and  visits  to 
the  different  agencies,  com;e  upon  a  family  of  Indians 
at  their  meal.  All  were  seated  upon  the  ground  in  a 
circle  around  the  food,  each  one  devoting  careful 
attention  to  the  work  of  demolishing  some  choice  morsel 
with  a  gusto  that  would  make  Lucullus  envious.  Fre- 
quently, upon  encountering  them  in  such  circumstances 
I  discovered  young  men  and  young  women  who  had  been 
at  Carlyle,  or  some  other  institution  in  the  East,  I  could 
tell  at  a  glance  that  they  had  had  the  advantage  of  an 
educational  training,  as,  upon  my  arrival  they  would 
turn  their  faces  away  from  me,  much  embarrassed  and 
somewhat  ashamed  to  be  seen  in  their  old  habits  of  life 
when  they  had  been  permitted  to  enjoy  the  elevating 
influences  and  advantages  of  higher  life.  They  had  not 
been  back  from  school  perhaps,  for  more  than  a  couple 
of  weeks;  perhaps,  they  were  only  making  a  short  visit 
to  the  old  folks  on  the  plains,  but  they  could  not  conceal 
their  training,  and  they  sought  to  avoid  embarrassment 
by  turning  away  from  the  visitor  who  happened  to  call 
upon  them.  They  were  wearing  the  blanket  just  to 
pleas'e  the  old  people.  It  was  the  custom  of  the  early 


236  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

days,  and  still  the  mode  of  life  of  their  parents,  and 
they  found  it  rather  difficult  ot  live  in  a  manner  different 
from  their  people  when  they  were  in  the  midst  of  thenv 
One  who  suffered  no  embarrassment  from  the  visitor  was 
the  old  buck  himself.  There  he  sat  munching  a  piece  of 
raw  beef  as  unconcerned  as  if  no  visitor  had  ever  ap- 
peared before  him.  He  was  apparently  oblivious  of  his 
surroundings,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  sole  purpose  in 
life,  just  then,  was  to  give  his  whole  time  and  attention 
to  a  quantity  of  meat,  oftentimes  of  such  size  that  a 
section  of  it  would  be  protuding  from  the  corner  of  his 
mouth.  There  he  sat  and  just  chewed,  like  a  work  ox 
munching  his  quid,  or  a  mountain  goat  contentedly  mas- 
ticating some  tough  but  savory  morsel  of  food. 

I  have  digressed  considerably  from  the  subject  of 
Dull  Knife's  doings,  but  I  hope  that  matter  just  men- 
tioned has  not  been  uninteresting  to  the  reader  as  it 
gives  some  idea  of  the  manner  of  life  the  old  rascal  led 
while  at  the  Darlington  Agency.  To  continue  the 
narrative,  the  Agent  kept  up  his  mode  of  procedure  in 
dealing  with  Dull  Knife,  and  the  latter  continued  to 
raise  objections.  He  kept  the  trail  between  his  abode 
and  the  Agency  in  a  well  worn  condition  owing  to  his 
numerous  visits  to  the  presiding  official.  In  this  manner 
he  managed  to  put  in  the  whole  winter.  In  other  words, 
he  kept  the  kettle  boiling,  and  one  could  see  that  there 
was  something  brewing. 

If  there  is  anything  that  an  Indian  dislikes,  it  is 
to  get  into  any  trouble  that  would  force  him  to  leave 
his  camp  in  the  winter  time,  especially  when  there  is 
much  snow  on  the  ground.  Gen.  Phil.  Sheridan  was 
aware  of  this  fact  when  he  made  his  winter  campaign  on 
the  Washita  after  Black  Kettle,  Satanta,  and  Lone  Wolf, 
and  forever  settled  the  outbreaks  of  the  Indians  in  that 
section  of  the  country. 

When  the  grass  began  to  spring  up  along  the  valley, 
and  his  ponies  seemed  to  be  putting  on  some  of  the  much 
needed  flesh,  Dull  Knife  felt  the  blood  pulsing  through 


OB  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  237 

his  heart  with  greater  vigor,  and  he  began  to  make 
preparations  for  war.  He  made  no  secret  of  Iris  inten- 
tions to  depart  at  the  earliest  opportunity  from  the 
restraining  influences  of  the  Reservation.  It  was  quite 
manifest  to  all  the  employees  at  the  Agency,  and  to  a 
great  many  of  the  soldiers,  that  Dull  Knife  was  making 
his  arrangements  to  part  company  with  his  surroundings. 
News  of  the  intentions  of  Dull  Knife  was  brought  to  the 
Agent  by  an  educated  half-breed,  George  Bent.  Any 
rumor  that  he  had  of  the  matter  previously  was  now 
sufficiently  confirmed  to  warrant  his  taking  what  pre- 
cautionary measures  he  deemed  proper  to  restrain  the 
war-like  ardor  of  the  distinguished  gmest  within  his 
gates.  He  summoned  Dull  Knife  to  his  presence  and 
gave  peremptory  orders  to  remove  his  camp  from  its 
present  location  down  the  river  to  a  position  about  eight 
ingles  east  of  where  the  present  city  of  El  Reno  now 
stands.  It  was  a  good  location  as  there  was  plenty  of 
water,  timber,  and  grazing,  and  should  have  satisfied 
the  demands  of  Dull  Knife  for  improved  conditions,  but 
he  immediately  put  forth  all  manner  of  objections  to 
which  the  Agent  turned  a  deaf  ear.  Reluctantly  Dull 
Knife  agreed  that  the  conditions  in  the  new  location 
were  much  better  than  where  he  had  been  living,  but 
he  did  not  see  his  way  clear  just  then  to  make  a  change 
in  his  habitation.  The  reason  he  gave  for  his  unwilling- 
ness to  comply  with  the  wishes  of  the  agent  was  that 
there  was  sickness  in  his  family  and  consequently  it 
would  be  extremely  dangerous  to  "expose  them  to  the 
necessity  of  submitting  themselves  to  a  change  when  it 
was  not  absolutely  necessary.  He  promised,  however, 
that  as  soon  as  his  family  was  restored  to  health,  he 
would  move  them  to  the  new  location  down  the  river. 
The  Agent  permitted  the  delay  suggested  by  the  wily 
Indian,  but  as  a  precautionary  measure,  had  the  Com- 
manding Officer  at  the  fort  send  a  troupe  of  the  fourth 
cavalry  to  where  he  was  then  camped,  to  stand  guard 
over  him  until  such  time  as  he  would  make  up  his  mind 


238  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

to  remove  to  the  new  site  selected  for  his  encampment. 
The  placing  of  a]  guard  over  him,  gave  Dfull  Knifei 
another  opportunity  to  raise  objections  to  the  general 
scheme  of  things,  and  like  a  spoiled  child  who  cries 
because  it  cannot  have  the  rainbow,  he  commenced  to 
whine  once  more.  No  sooner  had  the  troops  taken  up 
their  position  to  guard  his  actions  than  he  came  to  the 
Agent  to  have  them  removed  entirely,  or  if  that  was 
impossible,  to  have  them  removed  to  some  distance  from 
his  teepee.  He  asserted  strongly1  that  the  presence  of 
the  soldiers  so  near  to  him  had  a  tendency  to  keep  his 
squaws  in  a  state  of  terror  and  that,  as  a  consequence, 
they  would  not  be  able  to  regain  their  health,  at  least, 
as  long  as  the  soldiers  remained  in  the  neighborhood. 
The  Agent,  to  put  an  end  to  his  continual  whining, 
consented  to  remove  the  soldiers  to  a  position  somewhat 
removed  from  Dull  Knife's  teepee,  but  still  near  enough 
to  keep  some  sort  of  guard  over  him  if  they  were  at 
all  careful  in  the  fulfillment  of  their  duty.  The  soldiers 
were  rollicking,  jolly  good  fellows,  not  at  all  blood- 
thirsty, and  whenever  an  opportunity  presented  itself 
for  merriment  they  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  occasion 
with  all  kinds  of  ardor.  Needless  to  say,  they  found 
the  task  of  acting  as  guard  over  one  redskin  a  rather 
tedious  affair,  and  were  compelled  to  break  the  monotony 
of  existence  by  means  originating  with  themselves.  They 
managed  to  pass  the  time  in  running  horses,  playing 
cards,  and  with  other  diversions.  In  the  meantime  the 
Indians  passed  back  and  forth  among  them  with  as  much 
freedom  as  if  there  had  never  existed  anything  like  a 
guard. 

In  the  meantime  the  summer  was  passing  away,  and 
Dull  Knife  had  not  yet  changed  his  residence.  The 
Agent  was  beginning  to  get  somewhat  nervous  over  the 
matter.  He  even  went  so  far  as  to  declare  that  he 
would  leave  the  agency,  but  that  was  a  matter  that 
could  not  be  attended  to  without  considerable  red  tape, 
and  in  the  meantime  he  was  receiving  a  good  salary 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  239 

where  he  was.  He  could  not  throw  up  his  position  with- 
out consulting  Uncle  Sam,  as  Samuel  is  rather  a  harsh 
task-master  when  it  comes  to  seeing  that  his  officials 
fulfill  the  duties  of  their  position.  It  was  quite  evident 
that  Dull  Knife  was  getting  on  his  nerves. 

During  all  this  time,  Dull  Knife  was  tearing  around 
like  a  loose  cyclone  that  has  recently  broken  away  from 
its  moorings,  and  his  lieutenant,  Wild  Hog,  was  not  far 
behind  him  in  activity.  He  made  no  secret  of  what  he 
was  doing.  Here  and  there,  all  over  the  Reservation  the 
wily  old  villiani  was  meandering  for  the  purpose  of 
getting  possession  of  fire-arms.  Anything  he  had  in  his 
possession  he  was  willing  to  barter  for  anything  in  the 
shape  of  the  utensils  of  war.  Cowboys  and  soldiers,  all 
were  requested  to  barter  something  in  the  nature  of 
guns  or  ammunition  for  whatever  he  could  produce. 
Anything  he  had  was  on  the  market.  At  times  he 
succeeded  in  trading  a  couple  of  ponies  for  an  old,  rusty, 
six-shooter,  but  in  the  general  run  he  was  not  very 
successful.  As  an  instance  of  what  he  was  willing  to  do, 
I  shall  mention  one  case.  James  Smith,  a  teamster  for 
the  government  at  the  time,  was  hauling  posts  to  erect 
a  stockade  at  the  fort.  In  one  of  his  trips  he  met  Dull 
Knife.  The  latter  immediately  proposed  a  swap.  He 
saw  Smith  had  his  belt  full  of  cartridges,  and  these 
seemed  to  take  his  fancy.  He  made  a  trade  with  the 
teamster,  giving  him  a  new  government  overcoat  for 
ten  cartridges.  This  penchant  for  trading  became  an 
obsession  with  him,  and  there  were  times  when  he  ren- 
dered himself  a  nuisance  to  everyone  in  the  neighborhood 
by  his  continual  proposals  to  make  a  trade. 

Finally,  this  state  of  things  became  very  monotonous. 
They  had  long  since  become  aware  of  the  fact  that  Dull 
Knife  had  no  good  intentions  in  his  desire  to  become 
possessed  of  firearms  and  ammunition.  They  began  to 
be  fearful  of  him,  as  they  did  not  know  the  time  he 
would  break  out  and  take  the  war-path  and  leave  behind 


240  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  PIGHT 

him  a  trail  of  smoking  ruins,  with  a  long  list  of  murdered 
victims. 

On  the  first  of  September,  1878,  the  Agent  was  called 
up  by  a  family  of  Indians  who  informed  him  that  Dull 
Knife  had  gone.  They  said  that  they  had  gone  with 
him  a  short  distance,  but  changed  their  minds  and  came 
back  to  the  reservation.  The  thing  that  all  had  been 
looking  for  had  come  to  pass,  and  they  all  became  anx- 
ious for  what  the  near  future  would  make  known  to 
them.  Something  had  to  be  done  without  delay.  The 
Agent  immediately  summoned  Johnny  Murphy  who  had 
been  Gen.  Sheridan's  confidential  ambulance  driver  dur- 
ing the  campaign  on  the  Washita,  during  the  winter 
of  1868,  against  the  Kiowas,  Comanches,  and  Arpahoes, 
and  who  was  afterwards  a  reliable  despatch  bearer 
between  the  different  posts  in  that  section  of  the  country. 
The  Agent  explained  the  situation  to  Mr.  Murphy,  and 
handed  him  a  despatch  to  forward  immediately  to  the 
Commander  at  Ft.  Reno,  telling  him  of  the  departure 
of  Dull  Knife.  When  the  despatch  was  handed  to  the 
Commander,  he  read  it  attentively,  and  asked  Mr. 
Murphy,  as  a  special  favor  to  take  it  up  the  river  where 
the  troops  were  still  guarding  the  Dull  Knife  camp. 
Murphy  again  mounted  his  faithful  old  steed,  Pegasus, 
and  proceeded  to  bore  a  hole  in  the  darkness  until  he 
arrived  at  the  camp.  There  he  found  every  one  of  the 
soldiers  sound  asleep  while  the  object  of  their  tender 
care  was  on  his  way  to  the  hunting  grounds  in  the 
North  v  It  is  difficult  to  account  for  the  somnolent  ten- 
dencies of  the  soldiers  on  this  occasion.  It  does  not 
seem  possible  that  their  amusements  of  the  preceding 
day  would  have  the  effect  of  producing  such  a  lethargic 
condition.  In  any  case,  even  the  sentinel,  whose  duty 
it  was,  at  the  expiration  of  each  hour,  to  shout  at  the 
top  of  his  voice  and  proclaim  to  the  troops  in  particular 
and  to  the  whole  world  in  general  that  "All  is  well," 
had  surrendered  to  Morpheus,  and  was  so  tightly 
wrapped  in  his  embrace  that  Murphy  was  compelled  to 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  241 

roll  him  out  of  his  blankets  and  inform  him  that  the 
Commander  at  the  fort,  and  his  country  was  calling  him 
to  duty,  and  it  would  be  a  better  procedure  to  saddle 
up  at  once  and  go  to  headquarters  as  soon  as  possible. 

To  the  average  man,  the  escape  of  Dull  Knife  from 
under  the  very  eyes  of  his  guards,  may  seem  incr  edit  able, 
but  this  is  a  case  where  truth  is  stranger  than  fiction.  It 
seems  as  if  Dull  Knife's  medicine  had  hypnotized  the 
guardians  of  Uncle  Sam's  peace  and  dignity.  If  such 
were  the  case,  he  must  have  exercised  the  same  powerful 
influence  over  the  military  until  he  was  killed  close  to 
the  "Wyoming  line.  I  cannot  blame  the  reader  if  he 
shows  a  little  hesitancy  in  accepting  the  statement  as 
a  fact,  as  I  myself  would  have  an  inclination  to  question 
the  matter,  and  begin  to  look  for  proof  if  I  were  in  the 
same  conditions  as  he,  were  it  not  that  I  am  writing  this 
account  within  a  few  miles  of  the  locality  in  which  the 
drama  was  enacted.  I  have  been  over  the  trail  and 
visited  the  scenes  of  some  of  his  brutal  massacres. 

When  Dull  Knife  left  the  reservation,  he  had  less 
than  one  hundred  warriors,  but  had  his  full  complement 
of  squaws  and  papooses,  which,  all  told,  would  raise  the 
number  of  the  departing  contingent  to  about  two  hundred 
and  fifty.  The  fact  that  he  took  down  his  teepee,  packed 
all  his  belongings,  and  marched  off  undisturbed  by  the 
guard  set  to  watch  his  every  move,  would  be  enough  to 
stagger  the  mind  of  any  one  except  some  dime-novelist 
who  has  the  happy  faculty  of  accomplishing  marvelous 
deeds  with  little  or  no  implements  tfo  produce  such 
wonderful  results.  But,  nevertheless,  that  is  what  oc- 
curred. He  had  departed  unmolested  from  the  midst 
of  his  guards,  and  was  on  his  way  to  his  far  off  land 
of  promise.  When  he  left  the  reservation,  he  continued 
his  march  to  the  Cimmaron  river  without  much  incon- 
venience from  the  military  men  who  were  supposed  to 
forestall  any  such  movement  on  his  part.  Being  that  'he 
was  poorly  provided  with  munitions  of  war,  or  supplies 
to  maintain  his  command  on  their  journey,  he  was  com- 


242  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

pelled  to  seek  subsistence  by  raiding  ranches,  or  killing 
what  stock  he  met  011  his  way.  He  did  not  have  much 
trouble  in  providing  for  his  future  wants,  once  he  came 
into  posstssion  of  some  beef.  This  he  dried  and  "jerked," 
a  very  easy  proceeding,  for  as  soon  as  the  meat  was 
salted  and  hung  out  in  the  sun,  it  readily  cured,  and 
would  remain  fit  for  use  for  a  year  or  more  without  any 
fiirther  attention. 

The  day  after  the  departure  of  Duty  Knife  and  his 
followers,  the  soldiers  under  the  command  of  an  old 
German  officer,  who  had  seen  service  in  the  army  of  the 
Fatherland,  Major  Randerbrook,  set  out  to  arrest  the 
fugitives  and  bring  them  back  to  the  reservation.  It 
was  manifest  to  the  observer  that  the  Major  did  not 
relish  coming  in  contact  with  the  rough  edges  of  army 
life.  Here  I  may  pardonably  make  mention  of  the  fact 
that  this  same  Major,  and  Captain  Gunther,  of  whom 
I  shall  speak  later  on,  were  members  of  the  Slumber 
Squad  who  were  supposed  to  keep  a  wakeful  eye  upon 
Dull  Knife's  camp.  The  old  Major,  when  notified  by 
Johnnie  Murphy  that  'his  captive  had  vanished,  became 
indignant  to  think  that  Murphy,  a  mere  messenger,  would 
have  the  audacity  to  disturb  his  sweet  repose.  How- 
ever, realizing  that  the  courier  had  not  acted  on  his 
own  volition,  he  summoned  up  sufficient  courage  to  leave 
his  comfortable  bed,  and  saddle  up  for  the  purpose  of 
making  a  journey  to  the  fort.  When  he  arrived  there, 
he  received  orders  to  take  charge  of  the  Fourth  Cav- 
alry, or  that  portion  of  it  that  was  then  at  the  fort,  and 
set  out  in  pursuit.  There  were  several  troops  of  the 
Fourth  Cavalry  in  that  section  of  the  country  at  the 
time,  as  they  had  been  sent  down  from  Fort  Sill  to 
keep  an  eye  upon  the  Kiowas  and  Comanches  if  they 
should  show  any  disposition  to  foment  disturbances. 
Hence  it  happened  that  there  was  only  one  troop  of 
the  Fourth  at  the  fort  at  the  time  of  the  disappearance 
of  Dull  Knife  and  his  band.  The  Commander  of  the  fort 
also  sent  a  courier  to  Fort  Sill  telling  the  Commander 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  243 

there  that  Dull  Knife  had  gone  north,  and  asked  him  to 
intercept  the  Indians  if  possible. 

Tihe  fugitive  hadf  gone  northwards  only  a  short 
distance  when  he  went  into  camp  in  the  sand  hills  which 
lay  north  of  Dutch  Jake's  ranch.  From  his  actions  it 
was  plainly  evident  that  he  was  not  at  all  uneasy  about 
the  presence  of  the  soldiers,  nor  did  he  manifest  any 
fear  of  them.  When  he  was  ready  to  proceed  on  his 
journey,  he  set  out  with  the  same  nonchalance  as  charac- 
terized his  encamping  so  near  to  the  scene  of  his  late 
restraint.  He  advanced  on  his  route  until  he  arrived 
at  the  Antelope  Hills,  north  of  the  Cimmaron  river. 
There  he  made  another  encampment.  The  soldiers  had 
not  yet  overtaken  him,  a  thing  which  he  seemed  anxious 
for  them  to  do.  In  fact  he  became  so  anxious  that  the^v 
should  overtake  him  that  he  sent  a  small  band  of  war- 
riors back  to  meet  them  to  make  inquiries  as  to  the 
reason  of  their  following  him.  They  were  informed  by 
Major  Randerbrook  that  he  had  been  sent  out  to  arrest 
them  and  restore  them  to  the  reservation.  They  posi- 
tively refused  to  return  with  the  Major,  and  stated 
plainly  that  they  intended  to  return  to  their  chief  and 
lay  the  matter  before  him.  Dull  Knife,  as  might  be 
expected  of  him,  positively  refused  to  consider  the  return 
to  the  reservation,  in  any  light.  In  order  that  there 
might  be  no  mistake  about  his  intentions  he  began  to 
daub  on  the  war  paint  in  greater  abundance  than  he  was 
decorated  with  before.  He  was  simply  living  up  to  his 
assertion  made  previously  that  he  would  return  to  the 
hunting  grounds  of  the  northern  territory  if  the  con- 
ditions around  the  reservation  did  not  suit  his  fancy, 
and  in  his  present  attitude  he  was  fulfilling  up  to  his 
declarations,  and  would  continue  to  do  so,  come  what 
might. 

The  first  evening  of  the  march,  Major  Ronderbrook 
made  the  startling  discovery  that,  in  the  haste  and  bustle 
of  preparation  consequent  upon  the  order  to  pursue  the 
fleeing  Indians,  they  had  forgotten  to  pack  up  his  feather 


244  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

bed,  his  davenport,  also  his  writing  stand  and  wall  tent. 
He  felt  that  he  could  not  make  a  successful  journey 
without  these  necessary  accessories  to  'his  personal  com- 
fort, and  therefore,  he  detailed  Peter  F.  Weasel,  a 
member  of  the  16th  Infantry,  who  was  acting  as  team- 
ster at  the  time,  to  return  to  the  fort  and  bring  all  his 
belongings  (the  Major's)  and  overtake  the  troops  the 
next  day.  This  solemn  duty  Peter  set  out  to  fulfill  with 
proper  feelings  of  submission,  but  I  have  never  found 
any  'evidence  to  show  that  the  said  Peter  ever  appeared 
in  the  presence  of  the  Major,  laden  with  his  precious 
feather  bed  or  any  of  his  other  belongings. 

Do  not  permit  the  idea  to  find  lodgment  in  your 
head,  my  reader,  that  the  Major  was  a  coward.  Far 
from  it,  as  his  later  actions  showed.  Later  on,  when 
the  Indians  refused  to  surrender  when  he  met  them  at 
the  Antelope  Hills,  he  ordered  the  troops  to  charge  upon 
them  in  the  camp,  which  they  did.  After  a  short  skir- 
mish with  them,  he  found  that  he  had  lost  three  soldiers 
who  were  killed,  and  among  the  injured  was  the  company 
blacksmith  who  was  crippled  by  being  shot  through  the 
hips.  After  this  skirmish  the  soldiers  withdrew  from 
the  fray  and  went  into  camp.  There  they  buried  their 
dead  companions,  but  when  they  came  to  look  for  the 
injured  blacksmith  he  was  no  where  to  be  found.  In 
fact,  they  never  saw  him,  again.  The  loss  on  the  pirt 
of  the  Indians  is  unknown,  but  from  what  I  can  learn 
about  the  fray,  to  use  the  language  of  the  prize  ring, 
that  battle  might  be  considered  a  "draw."  Some  years 
afterwards,  acting  under  orders  from,  the  Department  at 
Washington  that  all  soldiers  killed  in  battle  with  the 
Indians  on  the  plains,  where  their  graves  were  known, 
their  bodies  should  be  exhumed  and  given  a  military 
funeral.  This  order  was  complied  with  in  the  case  of 
the  three  soldiers  killed  in  the  Antelope  Hill  fight,  and 
they  were  later  on  removed  to  the  fort  where  they  b  ;- 
longed  and  properly  interred.  The  Major  himself  bore 
himself  in  a  courageous  manner,  but  he  was  suffering 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  245 

from  the  handicap  of  age.  Brave  as  any  man  that  ever 
straddled  a  horse,  he  wanted  to  be  in  the  thickest  of  the 
fray,  but  owing  to  his  eyesight  being  greatly  impaired 
it  was  not  a  safe  move  to  permit  him  to  enter  so  ardently 
into  an  engagement,  as  he  could  not  distinguish  friend 
from  foe  at  even  a  short  range,  and  the  difference  be- 
tween an  Indian  and  any  other  object  at  a  distance  he 
could  by  no  means  make  out.  The  Major  was  thoroughly 
discouraged  with  the  outcome  of  the  affray,  and  dis- 
gusted with  the  conduct  of  his  troops  on  the  occasion. 
He  resolved  to  give  up  his  commission  and  turn  over  his 
command  to  a  younger  man.  He  determined  to  make 
his  resignation  at  Camp  Supply,  but  before  taking  his 
departure  he  placed  Captain  Gunther  in  charge  of  the 
command.  This  man  proved  his  unfitness  for  the  position 
of  trust  confided  to  him  later  on  at  Sand  Creek  where 
he  displayed  the  cowardice  and  worthlessnes^  of  his 
character,  which  stamped  him  as  one  of  the  most  de- 
spicable characters  who  ever  disgraced  the  uniform  of 
an  officer  since  the  days  of  Benedict  Arnold.  The  old 
Major  in  due  time  arrived  at  Camp  Supply  accompanied 
by  an  escort,  whilst  Dull  Knife  after  carrying  off  and 
secreting  his  dead  warriors,  started  northwards  across 
the  Cimmaron  river,  and  began  a  series  of  depredations 
on  the  ranches  and  cattle  in  Clarke  county,  Kansas. 

Once  he  had  crossed  the  river,  he  did  not  confine 
his  band  to  any  definite  route  of  travel.  In  place  of  an 
orderly1  line  of  march,  such  as  characterizes  the  trained 
soldier,  his  followers  scattered  out  each  day  in  different 
directions  to  perpetrate  whatever  devilment  might  offer, 
with  the  purpose  of  meeting  at  night  at  some  appointed 
rendezvous  to  plot  and  plan  further  rascality  to  be  put  in 
operation  on  the  following  day. 

There  were  few  stock  ranches  in  the  country  at  the 
time,  and  when  they  had  heard  that  the  Indians  were 
on  the  warpath,  and  were  in  the  neighborhood,  they 
began  to  make  preparations  to  protect  themselves  and 
their  stock  against  an  expected  incursion  of  the  maraud- 


246  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

ing  band.  They  rounded  up  their  horses  and  kept  them 
under  close  herd,  but  that  was  impossible  as  regarded 
the  cattle,  as  they  were  scattered  far  and  wide,  and 
consequently  would  afford  the  Indians  an  opportunity 
for  obtaining  possession  of  what  meat  they  wanted  for 
their  journey1.  It  would  have  been  flying  into  the 
teeth  of  danger  to  endeavor  to  round  them  up  just  then, 
as  the  ranchmen  would,  in  all  likelihood,  have  encoun 
tered  some  of  the  roving  bands  of  cut-throats  in  their 
way,  and  the  result  would  have  been  disastrous.  How- 
ever, it  was  not  the  nature  of  the  cowboys  to  remain 
supinely  inactive  and  permit  the  Indians  to  work  havoc 
on  the  herds  at  will.  They  determined  to  have  a  hand 
in  the  fray,  and  decided  that  it  was  time  to  give  the 
Indians  their  first  lesson  in  civilization  if  they  had  not 
received  it  before.  They  let  the  cattle  take  care  of  them- 
selves, and  set  out  to  deliver  their  instructions  in  the 
only  manner  that  would  appeal  to  the  natives  of  the 
plains.  The  cowboys  from  Doc  Day's  ranch,  and  those 
from  the  Driskill  ranch,  with  those  of  several  other  out- 
fits, all  turned  out  to  take  a  hand  in  the  fray  that  was 
sure  to  come.  They  set  to  work  with  enthusiasm, 
and  continued  it  with  so  much  zeal  and  ardor,  that 
Dull  Knife  began  to  fortify  himself  against  their  un- 
remitting attention.  He  selected  for  this  purpose  a 
location  on  what  is  called  Gypsum  Creek.  The  squaws 
set  to  work  to  dig  rifle  pits  upon  the  side  of  the  bluffs 
that  overlooks  the  stream,  where  the  warriors  could  fire 
down  upon  the  persistent  cowboys  if  they  should  have 
the  audacity  to  follow  them  into  their  hiding  place. 

Everybody  was,  by  this  time,  on  the  lookout  for 
the  invaders  and  prepared  to  give  them  a  warm  recep- 
tion should  they  appear  in  the  neighborhood,  excepting 
one  man  named  Sam  Kiger.  He  lived  on  what  is  now 
known  as  Kiger  Creek,  so  named  in  his  honor.  Sam  had 
a  little  ranch.  He  lived  in  a  dugout,  and  had  a  small 
herd  of  cattle,  and  was  busy  looking  after  his  own  inter- 
ests. He  was  so  far  removed  from  everybody  'else,  that 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  247 

he  did  not  hear  of  the  danger  that  was  threatening  the 
neighborhood.  It  is  easy  to  understand  how  he  was  un- 
aware of  the  menace  of  the  Indians  when  it  is  stated 
that  he  seldom  saw  any  one,  seldom  went  abroad  except 
when  necessity  compelled  him  to  do  so,  and  then  went 
to  Dodge  City  which  was  45  miles  distant,  for  supplies. 
He  remained  in  ignorance  of  his  danger  until  two  weeks 
after  the  Indians  had  left  that  part  of  the  country.  That 
was  one  case  where  ignorance  was  bliss.  But  another  man, 
Sam  Williams,  was  not  so  fortunate.  He  was  a  sheep- 
man and  maintained  his  flocks  on  aother  creek,  and  had 
ii  very  close  call,  in  fact,  just  escaped  being  murdered 
by  the  savages  by  the  narrowest  margin.  He  was  herd- 
ing his  sheep  all  alone  at  the  time.  Sam,  among  the 
other  adornments  of  nature,  was  upholstered  with  a  lux- 
uriant crop  of  whiskers.  They1  were  his  pride  and  he 
spent  his  spare  time  in  combing  them.  Never  did  beaute- 
ous maiden  bestow  so  much  time  and  attention  upon  her 
personal  adornment  as  S'am  spent  upon  his  hirsute  ap- 
pendage. In  fact,  the  care  and  attention  of  those 
whiskers  became  a  sort  of  obsession  with  him.  Well,  the 
first  notice  that  the  aforesaid  Sam  had  of  the  presence 
of  Indians  was  when  a  bullet  came  singing  through  the 
air  from  behind  a  sand  hill  and  ploughed  a  furrow 
through  his  highly  cultivated  whiskers.  It  did  not  re- 
quire any  very  rapid  calculation  on  his  part  to  tell  him 
that  he  was  living  in  the  midst  of  alarms,  and  that  he 
ought  to  seek  the  protection  of  his  dugout  so  as  to  be 
secure  from  further  manifestations  of  hostility  on  the  part 
of  the  invisible  riflemen.  To  think  was  to  act,  and  Sam 
made  the  distance  between  where  he  was  shot  at  and 
the  dug-out  in  record  breaking  time.  In  fact,  he  might 
have  shattered  the  record  considerably,  had  he  been 
timed,  but  there  was  no  time  to  look  for  an  official  time- 
keeper then,  so  his  efforts  in  speed  must  go  unrecorded. 
Once  inside  the  dug-out  he  felt  comparatively  sofe,  as 
an  Indian  would  be  very  careful  about  approaching  it  as 
it  was  virtually  impregnable.  There  was  no  mode  of 


248  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

assaulting  it  except  from  in  front,  and  no  wise  Indian, 
with  a  view  to  saving  his  skin  from,  being  perforated, 
would  care  to  approach  from  that  direction,  as  he  would 
be  compelled  to  take  that  direction  if  he  wished  to  cre- 
ate any  impression  on  the  occupant  of  the  dug-out.  In 
the  meantime,  the  proprietor  of  the  place,  acting  on  the 
law  of  self-preservation,  would  likely  be  cutting  the 
dust  from  around  the  said  Indian's  moccasins,,  if  not 
making  a  more  successful  effort  to  convert  his  assail- 
ant into  what  is  called  a  "good  Indian."  Usually,  as 
the  besieging  party  came  to  realize  that  he  could  not  set 
fire  to  the  place,  nor  make  any  success  of  shooting  into 
it,  he  would  abandon  his  undertaking  for  some  other 
more  tractable  victim.  But,  the  fact  that  he  could  not 
kill  his  victim,  did  not  prevent  his  turning  his  attention 
to  some  other  mode  of  deviltry  at  which  the  Indian 
was  usually  adept.  In  this  case,  they  rounded  up  the 
sheep  belonging  to  Williams  and  drove  them  into  a 
water-hole  where  six  hundred  of  them  were  clowned. 

While  proAvling  among  the  Sand  Hills,  the  Indians 
chanced  upon  and,  after  a  running  fight,  killed  a  man, 
named  La  Force,  a  brother  of  Perry  La  Force  who  was 
foreman  on  the  Diamond  F.  ranch,  owned  by  the  Frank- 
lin Land  and  Cattle  Co.,  and  managed  by  B.  B.  Groom, 
part  owner  of  the  stock.  He  was  a  fine  type  of  Kentucky 
gentleman,  actuated  by  the  highest  ideals,  and  one  who 
ran  true  to  the  standard  of  the  highest  kind  of  hospitality 
When  the  ranchman  became  aware  of  the  absence  of  La 
Force,  as  he  had  not  returned  from  his  tour  of  inspec- 
tion, or  whatever  duty  took  him  away  from  the  remain- 
der of  the  party  for  the  day,  they  organized  a  search 
party  to  discover  his  wherabouts.  They  probably  had 
more  than  a  suspicion  that  he  had  met  with  something 
more  than  an  accident,  as  they  were  aware  of  the  fact 
that  the  Indians  were  on  the  rampage,  but  it  would  not 
be  according  to  the  ethics  of  their  mode  of  life  to  aban- 
don him  unless  they  were  positive  that  he  had  met  death. 
For  weeks  they  maintained  the  search,  but  with!  no 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  249 

success.  Finally,  in  one  of  their  excursions,  they  came 
across  a  skeleton,  or  what  was  left  of  it,  as  the  bones 
had  been  disjointed  and  scattered  in  all  directions. 
They  were  not  yet  positive  that  it  was  the  remains  of 
their  friend.  However,  they  were  not  long  left  in  their 
uncertainty  for  they  discovered  La  Force's  six-shooter. 
Every  chamber  of  it  was  empty,  which  went  to  show 
that  he  had  not  yielded  tamely  to  his  fate,  but  fought 
manfully  against  whatever  odds  he  had  encountered. 
How  many  there  were  opposed  to  him,  the  seaching  party 
had  no  idea  of  calculating,  but  there  was  no  doubt  in 
their  minds  that  he  had  accounted  for  more  than  one 
of  his  foes.  The  condition  of  his  remains  was  due  to 
the  fact  that  they  had  left  his  body  where  he  had  fallen, 
and  the  coyotes  had  gnawed  every  particle  of  flesh  from 
the  bones.  They  gathered  up  what  bones  they  they 
could  find  and  bore  them  to  the  ranch  and  buried  them 
with  all  the  tributes  of  respect  that  could  be  shown  to 
one  who  had  been  not  only  a  friend,  but  who  had  held 
a  very  exalted  place  in  their  regard.  They  then  notified 
his  brother,,  Perry  I^a  Force^  of  the  iptimely  death 
of  his  brother,  giving  him  what  information  they  could 
of  his  tragic  end.  He  came  from  the  Panhandle  where 
he  was  living  at  the  time  and  had  the  remains  exhumed 
and  took  them  to  Mobeetie,  Texas,  where  he  laid  them 
in  their  last  resting  place. 

Whilst  these  acts  of  thievery,  murder,  and  other 
rascality  were  being  perpetrated  on  the  Cimmaron,  and 
Big,  and  Little  Sand  creeks,  a  small  contingent  paid  a 
visit  to  a  personal  friend  of  mine,  named  Charles  Coe. 
He,  at  the  time,  was  holding  a  herd  of  beef  cattle  in  the 
southwestern  part  of  Ford  county,  awaiting  an  oppor- 
tunity to  ship  them  from  Dodge  City.  The  herd  was 
owned  by  Tuttle  and  Chapman.  In  his  employment  he 
had  a  negro  who  performed  the  duties  of  cook,  as  well 
as  acting  as  chore  boy  around  the  outfit.  This  same 
Charlie  Coe  was  afttrwards  book-keeper  for  the  George 
S.  Emerson  Mercantile  Co.  in  Dodge  City,  Kan.  At  the 


250  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

time  I  mention  he  was  what  was  termed  a  tenderfoot, 
and  along  with  being  inexperienced  in  the  ways  of  the 
west,  had  little  or  no  knowledge  of  the  Indians  mode 
of  existence,  especially  on  the  warpath.  Anything  he 
happened  to  know  of  them,  he  had  gleaned  from  rumor 
and  reading.  His  tent  was  located  not  far  from  Crooked 
Creek.  When  the  Indians  came  upon  him,  decked  out  in 
their  war  regalia,  he  was  in  a  quandry  what  to  do. 
It  would  have  been  useless  for  him  to  endeavor  to  seek 
shelter  behind  the  bank  of  the  creek,  as  the  distance 
was  rather  far  just  then,  and  his  tent  would  offer  no 
protection  from  the  bullets  of  the  enemy.  Plainly  he 
was  confronting  a  proposition  the  like  of  which  he  had 
never  encountered  before.  It  did  not  take  him  long  to 
realize  the  danger  of  the  situation,  and  he  saw  at  a 
glance  that  it  was  death  or  glory  for  him,  no  matter 
which  horn  of  the  dilemma  he  chose  to  take.  Instead 
of  seeking  safety  in  flight,  he  preferred  to  break  a  long 
established  precedent  of  running  away,  and  faced  the 
danger  unflinchingly.  He  seized  his  gun  and  stepped 
outside  and  waited  the  coming  of  his  foes.  As  soon  as 
they  came  within  range,  he  took  careful  aim  and  fired. 
His  first  shot  brought  to  earth  the  horse  of  the  leader 
of  the  band.  Indications  showed  that  he  wrought  some 
damage  upon  the  rider  also,  as  he  had  to  be  assisted 
by  his  comrades  in  rascality.  They  picked  him  off  the 
ground  where  he  lay,  and  placed  him  on  a  pony  behind 
another  redskin.  The  bold  front  shown  by  the  white 
man  had  the  effect  of  halting  the  marauders  in  their 
mad  career,  and  at  the  same  time  had  a  stimulating 
effect  upon  young  Coe.  He  continued  to  fire  at  them 
as  long  as  they  remained  within  range.  The  reception 
they  had  received  was  wholly  unexpected  by  the  Indians, 
and  after  firing  several  random  shots  at  him,  without 
inflicting  any'  damage,  turned  their  horses  around  and 
withdrew  to  the  Sand  Hills  about  a  mile  distant.  As 
soon  as  they  had  departed  the  young  tenderfoot  entered 
his  tent  to  take  stock  of  his  means  of  defense.  A  brief 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  251 

glance  at  his  small  supply  of  anmmnition  showed  him 
that  he  was  not  in  a  position  to  stand  much  of  the  siege. 
In  fact  he  had  very  few  cartridges  left,  and  considering 
prudence  the  better  part  of  valor  decided  to  make  an 
improvement  in  his  conditions  by  seeking  safety  in  flight. 
He  gave  orders  to  his  stable  attendant  to  hitch  up  the 
horses  and  they  would  set  out  for  Dodge,  which  was 
about  thirty  miles  away.  He  told  the  negro  the  condi- 
tion of  affairs  and  showed  him  that  they  would  likely 
lose  their  scalps  and  their  lives  if  the  Indians  should 
make  another  descent  upon  their  camp.  To  the  pro- 
posal to  abandon  the  place,  the  negro  made  reply,  "No, 
sah,  I  ain't  agwine  to  leave  Marse  Tuttle 's  mules  heah 
for  dem  pestificatin  red  debils  to  get.  Ise  agwine  to 
take  dem  along."  Having  delivered  himself  of  this 
proclamation  of  loyalty,  he  started  to  hitch  up.  Coe 
could  not  persuade  him  that  he  was  exposing  himself 
to  unnecessary  danger,  and  while  Mr.  Tuttle  would  ap- 
preciate his  feelings  of  loyalty  to  his  interests,  at  the 
same  time  he  was  not  cruel  enough  to  wish  to  expose 
him  to  the  danger  of  losing  his  life.  This  and  all  other 
arguments  that  Coe  could  urge,  were  of  no  avail.  He 
had  determined  to  follow  his  own  course  in  the  matter, 
and  nothing  could  move  him  from  that  determination. 
He  had  a  strong  liking  for  that  team  of  mules,  and 
a  very  strong  affection  for  Mr.  Tuttle,  and  in  less  than 
£n  hour  later  he  lost  his  life  through  his  fidelity  to  his 
master's  interests.  Reluctantly  Coe  started  off  for  Dodge 
City.  Sharp  'eyes  were  watching  every  move  he  made. 
From  the  Sand  Hills  they  had  noticed  the  preparations 
made  at  the  tent,  and  saw  the  paleface  ride  away  in  the 
direction  of  the  city.  They  felt  that  it  was  useless  to 
follow  him,  as  they  knew  he  was  well  armed,  and  they 
remembered  too  well  the  manner  of  reception  he  tendered 
them  but  an  hour  before,  and  knew  that  he  would  be 
prompt  to  repeat  it  if  they  offered  'him  another  oppor- 
tunity. They  had  no  desire  to  lose  any  members  of  their 
band,  and  they  felt  that  it  would  be  a  certainty  that 


252  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

they  would  suffer  some  loss  if  they  pursued  him,  so  they 
let  him  proceed  on  his  way.  Not  so  did  they  show  any 
consideration  for  the  negro.  When  they  saw  him  set 
out  they  started  in  pursuit.  They  rode  down  from  the 
Hills,  gradually  converging  to  a  point  in  which  the  darky 
and  the  team  of  mules  was  the  center  of  attraction.  When 
the  negro  saw  them  coming  with  the  evident  intention  of 
intercepting  him,  he  put  the  mules  to  a  gallop,  but  it 
was  impossible  for  the  team  dragging  the  heavy  wagon 
to  outrun  the  war  ponies  of  the  Indians.  When  they 
were  drawing  down  upon  him  they  began  to  shout  and 
shoot  at  the  same  time.  The  poor  darkey  was  terrified. 
The  mules  were  stampeded  and  ran  away.  They  over- 
turned the  wagon  in  their  flight.  In  their  mad  career,  the 
driver  had  been  shot  in  the  back  several  times  and  was 
killed  outright.  They  overtook  the  mules  and  unhitching 
them,  led  them  back  to  the  Sand  Hills  where  Dull  Knife 
had  now  established  his  temporary  'headquarters.  They  did 
not  scalp  the  negro,  nor  burn  the  wagon  as  was  their 
custom.  Evidently  they  must  have  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  team  of  mules  and  the  plunder  of  the  tent  was 
sufficient  for  one  day.  The  darkey  was  later  found  an<j 
buried  by  some  cowmen,  and  his  grave  for  a  long  time 
was  used  as  a  landmark  for  travelers  along  the  Jones  and 
Plummer  trail.  Mr.  Tuttle  was  in  Dodge  City  at  the 
time  his  faithful  attendant  gave  up  his  life  for  his  inter- 
ests. Naturally  he  felt  the  loss  of  his  servant  rather 
keenly.  When  the  news  was  brought  to  him  that  his 
wagon  was  still  out  there  along  the  trail  where  it  had 
been  upset,  he  hired  Hoodoo  Brown,  an  old  scout,  to  go 
out  and  bring  it  into  Dodge,  for  repairs.  The  old  scout 
often  told  me  of  his  experience  upon  that  dangerous 
journey. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  he  had  the  wagon 
fixed  up  in  such  a  fashion  that  he  could  haul  it  into  the 
city.  He  made  the  return  trip  the  same  night  as  he  did 
not  care  to  expose  himself  to  the  danger  of  meeting  the 
same  or  worse  fate  than  the  negro.  He  said  that  he 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  t    253 

imagined  he  could  see  an  Indian  hiding  behind  every 
sage  brush,  or  cactus  in  the  country.  But  as  it  proved  to 
be  nothing  more  real  than  a  fancy  of  the  imagination,  he 
had  no  difficulty  in  making  the  journey,  for  which  Mr. 
Tuttle  paid  him  handsomely. 

This  band  that  had  just  perpertrated  the  deviltry, 
had  returned  to  Sand  Creek  just  in  time  to  avoid  a 
possee  of  cowboys  who  were  in  pursuit  of  them.  They 
had  but  recently  run  the  rest  of  the  Dull  Knife  band  into 
the  canyon  which  they  had  fortified,  and  it  would  have 
gone  hard  with  the  battle  contingent  that  had  just  come 
from  murdering  the  negro  if  the  cowboys  had  a  chance 
to  meet  them  before  they  sought  shelter  in  the  rifle  pits 
the  squaws  had  recently  dug. 

By  this  time,  the  whole  country  was  well  aware  that 
Captain  Gunther  and  Dull  Knife  had  been  playing  a 
game  of  "hide  and  seek"  for  the  past  ten  days.  The 
cowmen  became  weary  of  such  dilatory  tactics,  and  de- 
termined to  go  into  the  canyon  and  fight  it  out  with  the 
Indians.  At  this  time  Captain  Gunther  had  arrived  on 
the  scene  with  the  4th  Cavalry,  and  demanded  that  the 
cowmen  withdraw  from  the  sight  as  he  was  going  to 
take  that  matter  into  his  own  hands.  He  said  that  the 
Indians  were  well  fortified  and  that  he  would  have  con- 
siderable trouble  in  dislodging  them.  He  stated  that  he 
intended  to  place  sentinels  around  the  canyon  so  that  none 
of  them  could  escape,  and  intended  to  hold  a  conference 
with  Dull  Knife  in  the  morning.  He  assured  the  cowmen 
that  he  was  well  acquainted  with  the  old  warrior  and  felt 
certain  that  he  would  have  no  difficulty  in  persuading 
him  to  return  to  the  reservation  with  all  his  followers. 

After  the  captain  had  arranged  his  guards  around 
the  canyon  in  such  a  manner  as  he  thought  would  pre- 
clude the  possibility  of  the  Indians  making  their  escape, 
he  busied  himself  with  preparations  for  encamping  down 
the  creek.  While  he  was  thus  engaged,  he  was  ap- 
proached by  Ben  Jackson,  the  noted  scout  and  buffalo 
hunter,  who  saluted  him  in  military  fashion,  as  far  as 


254  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

his  knowledge  of  that  accomplishment  would  permit,  and 
proposed  that  he,  the  captain,  give  him  a  despatch  to 
be  delivered  to  the  commander  at  Fort  Dodge  requesting 
him  to  send  more  troops  to  aid  in  capturing  the  Indians. 
This  despatch  he  promised  to  deliver  within  a  few  hours. 
The  captain,  not  knowing  the  resourcefulness  of  the  man 
making  the  request,  replied  that  he  could  not  spare  an 
escort  for  the  undertaking.  To  which  the  scout  replied 
that  he  did  not  need  an  escort  as  he  was  well  acquainted 
with  the  country  and  did  not  have  any  fears  about  the 
prompt  delivery  of  the  message.  The  captain  answered 
that  such  a  course  of  proceedings  was  unnecessary,  as 
he  was  well  acquainted  with  Dull  Knife  personally.  He 
said  that  he  intended  to  hold  the  conference  with  him 
the  next  morning,  and  that  when  matters  were  set  before 
him  in/  the  proper  light,  there  would  be  no  further 
trouble  in  the  case,  as  he  was  positive  the  Indians  would 
be  perfectly  satisfied  and  return  to  the  agency  without 
any  further  difficulty.  When  this  short  interview  had 
been  completed,  the  captain  proceeded  down  the  creek 
and  went  into  camp.  In  the  meantime  the  pickets  were 
on  duty  around  the  canyon,  or  rather  were  supposed  to 
be,  but,  in  some  manner  or  other,  Dull  Knife's  medicine 
hypnotized  them  as  it  did  on  the  former  occasion  when 
he  escaped  from  the  North  Canadian.  I  am  not  going 
to  make  any  remarks  about  the  private  soldiers  of  this 
campaign,  as  they  wrere  ever  ready  and  willing  to  do 
their  duty  if  they  had  a  proper  officer  to  lead  them ;  nor 
am  I  going  to  make  any  comments,  nor  pretend  to  fix 
the  blame  where  it  belongs,  but  will  state  the  facts  and 
let  the  reader  judge  for  himself  who  was  culpable  in  the 
matter;  but  it  seems  incredible  that  250  Indians  could 
come  out  of  that  canyon,  supposedly  well  guarded,  and 
pass  through  a  cordon  of  pickets  without  a  gun  being 
fired.  Incredible  it  is,  but,  nevertheless,  that  is  the  un- 
varnished truth  of  the  matter.  When  dawn  appeared  the 
following  morning,  the  Indians  had  vanished,  as  if  they 
had  been  swallowed  up  by  the  earth.  Their  trail  indi- 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  255 

cated  that  they  had  gone  northward.  They  pursued  their 
line  of  flight  to  Crooked  Creek,  in  Meade  County,  Kansas, 
and  after  crossing  that  stream  near  what  is  called  the 
"Three  Bends,"  they  came  to  a  hay  camp  that  was  con- 
ducted by  G.  S.  Emerson.  Here  they  did  not  give  them- 
selves up  to  their  usual  depredations,  but  contented  them- 
selves with  taking  some  provisions  and  cutting  up  a  pair 
of  calf  skin  boots  belonging  to  the  proprietor.  That  they 
did  not  commit  any  murders,  was  due  to  the  fact  that  the 
men  of  the  outfit  were  absent.  From  there  they  pro- 
ceeded to  what  was  intended  to  be  the  county  seat  of 
Meade  county,  which  development  did  not  extend  further 
than  the  erection  of  a  story-and-a-half  frame  building, 
with  an  unfinished  well  nearby,  at  which  the  city1  fathers 
were  working  when  the  Indians  arrived.  They  immedi- 
ately set  out  to  explore  the  contents  of  the  house  and 
surroundings.  Their  efforts  were  not  rewarded  very 
highly,  but  one  thing  attracted  their  attention,  a  grind- 
stone standing  near  at  hand.  The  sole  occupant  of  the 
dwelling,  Captain  French,  was  compelled  to  perform  the 
task  of  turning  the  grindstone  while  they  were  sharpen- 
ing their  knives.  To  test  the  acuteness  of  the  finish 
they  had  put  on  their  weapons,  they  contented  them- 
selves with  drawing  them  across  the  captain's  throat. 
To  show  him  further  that  they  were  not  at  all  unselfish 
in  their  attentions  to  him,  the  squaws  lent  a  hand  in  pull- 
ing and  hauling  him  around  and  inflicting  all  manners 
of  abuse  upon  him,  but  they  did  not  attempt  to  kill  him. 
I  asked  the  captain  shortly  afterwards  why  they  did  not 
take  his  life,  and  he  replied  that  they  knew  better  than 
try  that.  He  stated  that  he  had  a  picture  of  George 
AVashington  hanging  on  the  wall  of  his  dwelling,  and  they 
knew  that  if  they  killed  him  the  government  would  soon 
be  in  pursuit  of  them.  Poor  old  Cap !  He  did  not  know 
that  the  government  was  on  their  trail  at  the  time. 

Although  there  were  four  or  five  men  working  at 
the  well  at  the  time  the  Indians  devoted  their  attention 
to  the  captain.  They  did  not  molest  them,  but  continued 


256  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

on  their  way  northward.  On  their  route  they  encountered 
a  man,  Wash  Connors,  who  had  been  to  Dodge  City 
to  do  some  trading.  He  had  spent  the  previous  night 
with  a  friend  of  mine,  C.  M.  Rice,  and  set  out  early 
in  the  morning  so  as  to  reach  his  destination  in  good 
time,  as  he  had  some  material  for  those  who  were  dig- 
ging the  well  at  the  new  town-site.  Mr.  Rice  urged  him 
to  remain  and  have  breakfast  with  him,  but  he  said  that 
he  was  in  a  hurry  and  would  attend  to  that  duly  when  he 
reached  his  destination.  With  a  good  team  of  mules 
hitched  to  his  lumber  wagon,  he  started  off  in  good 
spirits,  little  thinking  he  would  never  reach  the  end  of 
his  journey.  He  was  proceeding  on  his  way  in  a  brisk 
fashion  and  had  come  in  sight  of  the  town-site  when  the 
members  of  Dull  Knife's  band  met  him.  They  stopped 
him  without  any  ceremony  and  attacked  him  before  he 
could  get  out  of  his  wagon.  They  cut  his  throat,  tore 
the  harness  off  his  mules  and  went  their  way  taking  his 
team,.  The  well-diggers  saw  the  whole  proceedings,  but 
were  unable  to  render  assistance  as  they  were  not  in  a 
position  to  do  so. 

Leaving  the  victim  of  their  murderous  assault  dying 
in  his  wagon,  they  set  out  toward  the  north  again.  Be- 
tween the  scene  of  their  latest  crime  and  the  Arkansas 
they  committed  no  further  depredation.  They  crossed 
the  river  west  of  Dodge  City,  not  far  from  where  the 
present  station  of  Cimmaron  is  located  on  the  Santa  Fe 
railroad.  Their  depredations  after  crossing  the  river  were 
few,  as  there  was  little  to  attract  their  attention,  ex- 
cepting some  wild  cattle  and  the  accompanying  cowboys. 
They  did  not  molest  the  latter  as  they  had  a  wholesome 
respect  for  that  individual  by  reason  of  the  fact  that  he 
was  generally  armed  with  a  brace  of  six-shooters  and  a 
Winchester  rifle,  and  was  an  expert  in  the  use  of  both. 
Meeting  a  cow-puncher  under  such  conditions  was  a  haz- 
ardous thing,  as  the  Indian  knew  the  cowboy  would  not 
trade  even.  They  had  no  doubt  about  their  ability  to 
eventually  kill  him,  but  the  price  to  be  paid  was  too 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  257 

great,  as  he  usually  sent  three  or  four  of  the  wily  red- 
skins across  the  Great  Divide  before  succumbing  to  their 
prowess,  and  they  did  not  usually  care  to  pay  the  price. 

By  this  time  the  whole  country  was  aroused.  The 
news  was  heralded  abroad  on  the  wings  of  the  wind.  The 
newspapers,  as  is  their  custom,  in  glaring  headlines, 
magnified  the  extent  of  the  depredations,  and  gave 
alarming  accounts  of  the  atrocities  committed  by  the 
Indians.  Everybody  was  on  the  lookout,  those  in  the 
neighborhood  fearing  a  visitation  of  the  marauders,  and 
those  far  away  living  in  expectation  of  the  next  savage 
depredation.  The  excitement  reached  such  a  high  de- 
gree of  intensity  that  the  department  ordered  Lieuten- 
ant-Colonel Lewis  to  take  charge  of  the  field  of  action, 
which  for  some  time  had  been  a  field  of  inaction  as  the 
gentleman  who  was  supposed  to  be  at  the  head  of  the 
movement  against  the  Indians  was  but  a  poor  apology  for 
a  successful  military  commander.  It  may  be  well  to  re- 
mark that  this  man  was  soon  relegated  to  the  military 
scrap-heap  in  disgrace. 

When  Lieut-Col.  Lewis  was  notified  of  the  appoint- 
ment, he  responded  with  alacrity.  He  set  out  at  once  from 
Dodge  City  with  his  command.  He  soon  was  on  the  trail 
of  the  Indians.  A  short  journey  westward  brought  him 
to  the  point  where  the  band  had  crossed  the  Arkansas 
on  their  way  northward. 

In  the  meantime  the  Indians  were  pursuing  their  way 
with  considerable  speed.  They  may  have  realized  that 
another  expedition  would  be  organized  to  follow  on  their 
trail,  or  another  commander  would  be  put  in  charge 
of  the  one  they  had  left  so  unceremoniously  on  the 
night  of  their  escape,  but  whatever  their  conclusions  were, 
they  did  not  stop  to  commit  any  more  outrages  until 
they  reached  the  North  Beaver,  or  Sand  Creek.  On  their 
arrival  there,  they  saw  they  were  about  to  have  a  fight 
on  their  hands,  as  the  lientenant-colonel  had  followed 
their  trail  with  such  speed  that  he  was  almost  upon  them. 
Escape  for  the  time  being  was  out  of  the  question,  and 


258  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

they  resolved  to  fight.  Lewis  did  not  want  to  kill  them, 
but  preferred  to  have  them  surrender  and  return  to  the 
reservation.  Such  idea  did  not  enter  into  Dull  Knife's 
calculations,  and  he  decided  to  fight  rather  than  return 
to  the  place  of  his  recent  abode. 

It  was  now  getting  late  in  the  afternoon. 
Considerable  sharp-shooting  had  been  done  on  both  sides 
for  some  time,  and  then  a  skirmish  took  place.  Each 
party  was  doing  what  execution  it  could  without  exposing 
itself  to  any  more  danger  than  was  necessary.  The 
Indians  endeavored  to  make  every  shot  count  as  their 
ammunition  was  getting  scarce,  and  the  soldiers  were 
employing  the  same  mode  of  warfare  as  their  opponents, 
though  it  was  not  the  scarcity  of  powder,  but  rather  the 
desire  to  preserve  their  anatomy  from  the  missies  of  the 
enemy  that  induced  them,  to  seek  shelter  behind  every 
bush  and  hillock.  The  lieutenant-colonel  was  a  busy 
man,  directing  the  operations  of  his  troops,  and  looking 
after  things  in  general.  The  battle  lagged  along  until 
evening,  without  much  evidence  of  success  for  either 
party.  Towards  evening  Lewis  rode  out  to  the  firing 
line  to  get  a  closer  view  of  things  and  to  lend  his  men 
the  encouragement  of  his  presence.  When  he  reached 
the  zone  of  fire,  one  of  the  Indian  scouts  approached  him 
and  advised  him  to  dismount  from  his  horse  as  he  would 
very  proabbly  be  shot  if  he  remained  exposed  in  such  a 
manner  to  the  fire  of  the  enemy.  The  lieutenant-colonel 
did  not  heed  the  advice  so  freely  given  by  his  scout,  and 
in  less  than  ten  minutes  he  received  a  bullet  in  the  thigh. 
The  missle  struck  an  artery,  and  as  a  result,  the  lieuten- 
ant-colonel died  a  few  hours  later  from  loss  of  blood, 
(My  authority  for  the  above  statement  is  G.  W.  Brown, 
who  was  lying  not  twenty  feet  away  when  the  scout  gave 
the  warning  of  danger.  This  gentleman,  is  now  living 
at  Cushion  Oil  Field).  He  piloted  the  ambulance  bear- 
ing the  lieutenant  colonel  under  the  command  of  Lieuten- 
ant Gardner  and  escort  to  Fort  Wallace  that  same  night, 
as  he  was  familiar  with  that  part  of  the  country  owing 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  259 

to  the  fact  that  he  had  hunted  buffalo  all  through  that 
section  of  the  c  ountry  in  the  early  days.  After  the  escort 
had  proceeded  on  its  journey  for  about  six  miles,  a  rider 
returned  to  the  lieutenant  and  told  him  that  the  lieuten- 
ant-colonel had  died.  This  sad  news  was  a  shock  to  the 
company,  as  he  was  a  man  of  the  highest  type  of  bravery, 
and  his  demise  was  regretted  by  every  man  in  the  com- 
mand. When  the  news  was  first  broken  to  the  troops  f* 
look  of  grim  determination  settled  upon  the  countenance 
of  every  man,  which  meant  that  at  the  first  opportunity 
they  would  avenge  the  death  of  him  who  they  loved  so 
well.  The  fortunes  of  war  averted  the  blow  for  the 
present,  for,  during  the  night,  Dull  Knife  and  his  fol- 
lowers fled,  leaving  nothing  behind  but  the  embers  of  his 
camp  fires  to  show  where  he  had  taken  his  stand.  The 
soldiers  started  in  hot  pursuit,  as  they  did  not  want  their 
enemies  to  go  unpunished.  They  had  not  followed  the 
trail  very  far  when  they  learned  that  the  Indians  had 
divided  their  forces  and  gone  in  different  directions. 
Wild  Hog,  the  chief  adviser  of  Dull  Knife  went  towards 
the  north-east,  over  to  S'appa  Creek,  where  he  and  his  fol- 
lowers murdered  over  forty  persons,  pillaged  their  stock 
and  burned  what  they  could  not  conveniently  carry  off. 
Dull  Knife  with  the  rest  of  the  band  headed  due  north. 
This  division  of  the  Indians  compelled  the  soldiers  to 
adopt  the  same  method  of  procedure.  They  were  ac- 
cordingly organized  into  two  divisions  and  set  off  in  hot 
pursuit  of  their  wily  foes.  From  this  time  onward  the 
expedition  assumed  the  character  of  a  running  fight. 
This  system  of  pillage,  and  plunder,  on  the  part  of  the 
Indians,  with  the  pursuit  on  the  part  of  the  soldiers,  was 
maintained  until  the  7th  Cavalry,  under  General  Samuel 
D.  Sturgis  succeeded  in  capturing  both  bands  on  the 
Niobrara  River  in  the  vicinity  of  the  place  in  which 
Camp  Niobrara  was  built,  and  about  15  miles  east  of 
Camp  Sheridan.  This  event  occured  in  the  month  of  Oc- 
tober, 1878,  but  I  cannot  give  the  exact  date  of  the  oc- 
currence. The  captives  were  then  taken  as  prisoners 


260  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

of  war  to  Fort  Robinson,  Neb.,  or,  as  it  was  then  called, 
Camp  Robinson^  They  were  placed  in  the  guard  house 
and  held  there  until  New  Year's  night,  1879,  when  they 
broke  out,  killed  the  guards  /and  made  tfheir  escape 
through  the  sand  hills  until  they  had  almost  reached 
the  Wyoming  line. 

When  the  news  was  brought  that  Dull  Knife  had 
killed  his  guards  and  made  his  escape,  everything  was 
in  a  flutter  of  excitement.  Preparations  were  immediately 
made  for  pursuit.  At  dawn,  as  soon  as  it  was  possible  to 
observe  the  direction  of  the  trail,  the  bugle  sounded  and 
the  Third  Cavalry  mounted  their  horses  and  set  out 
in  pursuit  of  the  wily  old  villain  who  had  so  often 
eluded  them.  They  followed  hastily  all  forenoon  and  the 
further  they  advanced,  the  clearer  the  signs  manifested  to 
them  the  fact  that  they  were  close  upon  the  fleeing 
Indians.  In  the  afternoon  they  overtook  the  band  in 
the  sand  hills  close  to  the  border  line  of  Wyoming.  When 
Captain  Wessels  rode  up  to  them,  he  immediately  ordered 
them  to  surrender.  Dull  Knife's  reply  to  this  was  a 
rifle  shot  that  killed  an  Indian  scout  belonging  to  the 
cavalry.  He  repeated  with  another  shot  at  Captain  Wes- 
sels. The  bullet  struck  the  captain  but  did  not  inflict 
a  mortal  wound.  The  action  of  Dull  Knife  was  a  suf- 
ficient guarantee  that  he  did  not  intend  to  surrender,  and 
immediately  the  troops  poured  a  succession  of  volleys  into 
the  foe.  When  the  smoke  of  battle  cleared  away,  and 
the  few  who  remained  alive  surrendered,  it  was  discovered 
that  Dull  Knife  himself,  his  daughter  who  was  present, 
and  about  two  thirds  of  his  followers  had  all  gone  to  the 
Happy  Hunting  Grounds  together.  After  giving  the 
proper  attention  to  the  wounded,  and  burying  the  dead, 
the  troops  with  the  prisoners  returned  to  Camp  Robinson. 
Among  the  number  returning  to  the  fort  were  Wild  Hog 
and  many  other  leading  spirits  of  the  movement.  They 
were  held  there  until  the  spring  of  1879,  when  the  leaders 
were  sent  to  Dodge  City,  Ford  county,  Kansas  to  be 
tried  for  murder  and  other  crimes. 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  261 

I  called  upon  those  notable  characters  while  they 
were  supposed  to  be  in  durance  vile,  and  found  them  the 
m,ost  conspicuous  and  best  entertained  men  in  prison.  The 
representatives  of  different  illustrated  newspapers  were 
there,  sketching  their  pictures,  and  treating  them  to 
cigars.  It  was  certainly  a  very  novel  sight  to  me,  and 
I  thought  it  strange  that  the  citizens  of  Dodge  City  had 
not  formed  a  necktie  party  for  the  entertainment  of  the 
whole  party  of  savages,  for  they  were  well  aware  of 
the  characters  of  their  guests  and  well  acquainted  with 
the  amount  of  crime  and  rascality  they  had  perpetrated 
almost  within  view  of  the  town  itself.  However,  every- 
thing seemed  to  be  following  along  the  even  tenor  of  its 
way,  and  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  Dodge  City  was 
a  very  law  abiding  city,  and  was  a  good  town  to  live  in 
(especially  when  one  is  acquainted  with  the  early  history 
of  the  place).  I  cannot  refrain  from  remarking  that,  if 
a  white  man,  or  a  body  of  white  men,  had  been  guilty 
of  one-tenth  of  the  crimes  perpertrated  by  the  Indians  who 
were  then  sojourning  in  their  town,  they  would  have  been 
hanged  as  high  as  tirey  could  be  raised  on  a  lariat  rope, 
or  shot  to  pieces  in  the  streets.  Strange  are  the  dealings 
of  man  with  man. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Great  Awakening  of  the  West;  Buffalo  Hunters;  Quakers' 

Influence;  Indian  Disturbances;  A  Treaty  Made 

and  Broken,  Etc. 

When  the  first  railroad  construction  train  started 
West  from  the  Missouri  River,  with  its  gangs  of  graders, 
tie-slingers,  and  track  layers,  the  sound  of  the  locomotive 
whistle  proclaimed  to  the  Indian  more  plainly  than  any 
language  could  do,  that  the  days  of  his  activity  over  that 
vast  expanse  of  country  were  ahout  to  terminate,  peace- 
ably if  possible,  but  forcibly  if  necessary.  The  company 
kept  in  its  employ  one  or  more  buffalo  hunters  to  supply 
the  boarding  car  with  fresh  meat  which  was  plentiful  on 
the  prairie  in  those  day's.  The  engineers  had  staked  out 
the  right-of-way,  and  established  the  different  grades  in 
advance,  and  'everything  was  kept  in  good  shape  for  the 
speedy  progress  of  the  work.  The  Indian  saw  all  this. 
He  also  saw  the  graders,  the  tracklayers,  the  spike  drivers, 
and  heard  the  locomotive  whistle.  He  saw  the  engineers 
and  the  buffalo  hunters,  but  he  failed  to  see  the  real 
cause  of  his  trouble.  He  could  not  see  the  promoters  of 
that  great  undertaking  and  enterprise,  because  they  were 
beyond  the  reach  of  his  limited  vision.  They  were  in 
their  luxurious  offices  figuring  on  the  possibilities  and 
probabilities  of  one  day  declaring  large  dividends  on 
that  stupendous  undertaking  that  was  to  reach  out  to  the 
gold  mines  of  Colorado  and  on  through  the  mountains  to 
the  Pacific  coast.  The  promoters  could  see  at  a  glance 
that  it  was  useless  to  expect  any  great  returns  from  the 
capital  invested  if  they  were  to  be  dependent  on  any 
freight  or  traffic  from  the  Indian.  They  needed  not  to 
be  told  that  he  was  not  an  agriculturist.  He  was  not  a 
stockman  and  had  no  use  for  agricultural  implements 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  263 

such  as  threshers,  sulky  plows,  fanning  mills  or  corn  shell- 
ers.  He  made  his  living  by  hunting  and  fishing  and 
was  to  a  certain  extent  self  supporting  and  independent 
of  all  railroads.  He  was  not  accustomed  to  take  his  squaw 
and  papooses  to  any  foreign  watering  place  to  spend  the 
summer.  Whenever  he  felt  like  taking  a  few  days'  recre- 
ation, he  bundled  his  camp  equipage  and  with  his  family 
started  for  some  creek  where  there  were  plenty  of  fish 
and  there  remained  until  his  visit  was  completed.  Some- 
times several  families  went  together  and  had  a  big  time 
talking  over  Indian  customs  and  the  ways  of  the  white 
man.  This  had  been  their  custom  from  time  immemorial 
and  any  act  performed  by  the  white  man  to  disturb  'his 
equanimity  or  distract  him,  was  loked  upon  as  an  out- 
rage and  sacrilege,  and  any  who  did  such  things  were 
served  with  summary  punishment. 

The  capitalists  could  see  at  a  glance  that  the  Indians 
were  not  a  class  of  people  to  build  up  a  profitable  in- 
dustry and  felt  it  their  duty  to  remove  them  from  that 
section  of  the  country  in  order  to  induce  stockmen  and 
farmers  to  occupy  it.  As  a  step  in  that  direction  they 
created  a  market  for  buffalo  hides,  which  seemed  to  have 
the  desired  effect,  for  it  was  but  a  short  time  until  many 
adventurous  spirits  who  could  gather  together  enough 
money  to  buy  a  span  of  ponies,  a  wagon  and  ammunition 
for  the  purpose,  were  engaged  in  the  business,  some  as 
hunters,  others  as  skinners.  As  soon  as  they  had  a  load 
of  hide  they  shipped  them  to  market  and  with  the  pro- 
ceeds prepared  for  another  trip  to  the  range  again.  Few 
but  the  hardiest  and  bravest  young  men  could  stand  the 
dangers,  trials,  and  exposure  which  they  confronted  in 
all  kinds  of  weather. 

There  was  one  young  man  that  I  feel  a  pardonable 
pride  in  mentioning  as  engaged  in  that  undertaking, 
namely  W.  F.  Cody,  who  by  his  dexterity  with  the  rifle 
had  acquired  the  title  of  ''Buffalo  Bill,"  and  who  had 
become  famous  as  an  Indian  scout  and  had  established  an 
international  reputation  as  the  greatest  marksman  and 


264  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

horseback  rider  in  the  wastern  plains.  He  was  also  chief 
of  scouts  and  confidential  friend  of  General  Phil  Sheri- 
dan, and  at  this  writing  is  the  owner  and  proprietor  of 
Buffalo  Bill's  Wild  West  Show.  His  was  a  plain  case  of 
'survival  of  the  fittest.'  The  Indian  looked  upon  his 
kind  as  trespassers  and  intruders  and  as  he  had  no  navy 
or  war  department  behind  him  other  than  the  tribal 
medicine  man  who  decided  the  war  movements  of  his 
tribe  by  incantations  or  by  observation  of  the  way  the 
smoke  blew  from  his  camp  fire,  after  deliberating  on  the 
general  condition  of  the  country,  the  signs  of  the  moon,  as 
well  as  the  inroads  the  hunters  were  making  on  the  buf- 
falo which  he  considered  his  private  property,  decided 
to  go  on  the  warpath  and  kill  off  a  few  buffalo  hunters 
and  discourage  any  future  invasion  of  what  he  felt  was 
his  private  right.  When  he  began  his  undertaking  he 
soon  learned  that  hunting  the  buffalo  hunter  was  en- 
tirely different  from  hunting  the  buffalo,  and  it  was  a 
work  that  two  could  engage  in  from  opposite  angles,  at 
the  same  time,  with  the  advantage  greatly  in  favor  of  the 
buffalo  hunter  as  he  was  always  well  armed,  and  an  ex- 
pert marksman;  and  in  this  particular  they  soon  learned 
to  have  a  high  regard  for  Buffalo  Bill.  To  such  a  de- 
gree did  they  come  to  admire  him  that  they  looked 
upon  him  as  a  being  of  a  higher  order,  and  not  of  the 
common  clay.  Things  came  to  such  a  pass  after  some 
experience  with  the  buffalo  hunter,  that  the  Indian  never 
took  any  chances  with  him,  but  when  the  hunter  pointed 
to  a  distant  horizon,  the  aborigines  usually  followed 
the  direction  without 'further  parley. 

Prior  to  the  time  of  which  I  write,  the  Quaker  sect 
came  into  close  touch  with  the  Indian  Department  in 
Washington,  D.  C.,  and  formed  what  was  called  the 
Indian  Bureau.  They  urged  the  only  sane  and  proper 
way  to  civilize  the  Indian  was  to  educate  him  and  teach 
him  agriculture.  General  Hazen  was  placed  at  the  head 
of  the  movement  and  a  conference  was  called  at  Medi- 
cine Lodge,  Kansas,  which  the  Comanches,  Kiowas, 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  265 

Cheyennes,  and  Arapahoes  were  invited  to  attend.  Gen- 
eral Harney  presided,  surrounded  by  reporters,  inter- 
preters and  such  other  attendants  as  were  required  to 
lend  dignity  to  a  court  of  such  magnitude.  After  sev- 
eral days  of  vexation  and  worry,  they  succeeded  in  form- 
ulating a  treaty  which  was  supposed  to  be  signed  by  all 
the  chiefs  of  those  different  tribes,  by  which  they  agreed, 
for  certain  considerations  made  and  provided,  to  vacate 
all  that  country  lying  between  the  Platte  and  Arkansas 
Rivers  and  go  southward  to  take  up  their  permanent 
abode  in  what  was  then  known  as  Indian  Territory.  The 
Comanches  and  Kiowas  were  located  on  Red  River  and 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  Wichita  mountains.  The  Arapa- 
hoes were  located  south  of  the  North  Canadian.  The 
Cheyennes  were  allotted  the  country  along  Pond  Creek, 
in  what  was  known  as  Cherokee  strip.  The  Quakers 
were  not  slow  to  learn  that  they  had  made  a  fatal 
mistake  in  locating  the  Cheyennes  so  close  to  the  state 
line  of  Kansas,  as  the  State  of  Kansas  at  that  time  was 
not  governed  by  prohibition  laws  and  the  bootlegger  was 
abroad  in  the  land,  and  unless  some  steps  were  taken 
very  speedily  it  would  be  a  question  of  only  a  short  time 
before  the  bootlegger  would  have  all  the  Indians '  port- 
able possessions  over  in  the  State  of  Kansas.  I  happen 
to  be  personally  acquainted  with  a  man  who  was  engaged 
in  that  business  and  he  told  me  that  at  one  time  he  had 
traded  a  boot  full  of  whiskey  for  nine  head  of  ponies.  He 
had  no  jug  and  rather  than  lose  the  deal,  he  pulled  off  his 
boot  and  filled  it  from  his  keg  and  then  started  off 
with  his  ponies  for  Kansas.  The  agent  left  in  charge 
readily  saw  that  such  conditions  could  not  hold  out  long. 
There  were  marshals  who  had  been  appointed  to  guard 
and  protect  the  interests  of  the  Indians,  but  some  of 
them  were  in  secret  collusion  with  the  bootlegger  arid 
received  a  share  of  the  gain.  As  a  consequence  of  this 
condition  the  agent  decided  to  remove  the  Cheyennes 
southward  to  the  North  Canadian  where  a  permanent 
agency  was  established  and  put  under  the  control  and 


266  THE  INDIANS1  LAST  FIGHT 

management  of  Mr.  Darling  and  even  to  this  day  is 
known  as  the  Darlington  Agency.  A  large  portion  of  the 
Cheyenne  tribe  settled  there  and  adopted  the  white  man 's 
way  of  farming.  After  they  drew  their  allotments,  the 
government  employed  white  men  to  go  among  them  and 
instruct  them  in  the  management  of  their  affairs,  and  how 
to  sow  and  cultivate  their  crops.  Women  were  also  sent 
as  matrons  among  them  to  instruct  the  squaws  in  the 
art  of  fulfilling  'household  and  social  duties.  Schools  were 
built  and  teachers  employed,  and  the  advance  they  have 
made  is  really  surprising. 

The  treaty  of  Medicine  Lodge,  it  was  hoped,  would 
put  an  end  to  all  hostilities  between  the  Indians  and 
the  whites  and  bring  about  a  settled  condition  of  affairs, 
but  such  was  not  to  be  the  case,  for  a  large  percent  of 
the  Cheyennes  and  a  considerable  portion  of  the  Arapa- 
hoes  became  disgruntled  and  claimed  they  had  not  signed 
the  treaty,  and  others  claimed  that  the  interpreters  did 
not  properly  translate  their  wishes  and  said  they  were 
not  going  south  to  the  Territory  and  would  not  comply 
with  any  of  the  requirements  of  the  treaty,  or,  in  other 
words,  they  were  going  to  stay  where  they  were,  and  go 
and  come  as  they  pleased  regardless  of  the  white  man's 
feelings  in  the  matter.  The  leaders  of  this  discontented 
branch  of  the  different  tribes  were  Roman  Nose,  Black 
Kettle,  Turkey  Leg,  and  Dull  Knife,  with  a  few  smaller 
chiefs.  These  bands  of  Indians  kept  roaming  back  and 
forth  between  the  Platte  River  on  the  north  and  the  Cim- 
maron  River  on  the  south  and  west  to  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, and  at  one  time  went  eastward  as  far  as  Council 
Grove,  Kansas,  where  the  Kaw  Indians,  a  peaceable  tribe, 
were  located.  They  raided  them  and  after  killing  a  few 
of  them,  ran  off  their  stock  and  returned  to  their  favorite 
hunting  grounds. 

This  was  kept  up  continually  tor  years.  Robbing 
stage  coaches,  killing  freighters,  raiding  stock  ranches,  or 
murdering  the  frontier  settlers  seemed  to  be  a  favorite 
pastime  with  them.  Ever  since  the  treaty  of  Medicine 


OB  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  267 

Lodge,  they  kept  growing  bolder  and  more  threatening. 
Brigadier  General  Sully  who  was  in  command  at  Fort 
Larned  at  that  time,  called  their  attention  to  ths  fact  that 
there  had  to  be  a  change  in  their  attitude  toward  the 
whites,  or  he  would  be  compelled  to  take  action  againsj 
them.  When  they  received  this  notice  a  delegation  of 
the  leaders  called  on  the  Gentral  for  a  conference.  They 
asserted  that  all  the  mischief  had  been  perpetrated  by 
some  young  Indians  that  were  dissatisfied  with  the  treaty, 
and  had  acted  entirely  contrary  to  the  wishes  of  their 
leaders.  They  begged  him  to  supply  them  with  ammu- 
nition and  arms,  and  assured  him  that  there  would  be  no 
more  trouble  along  that  line.  The  foxy  old  bucks  knew 
that  they  were  lying  and  if  the  old  general  had  been 
educated  on  the  plains  instead  of  a  military  academy, 
he  would  have  known  it  too  but  he  was  one  of  those 
good-natured,  easy-going  old  fogies  who  were  much  more 
intended  to  take  charge  of  a  Sunday  school  class  than 
of  a  branch  of  the  army.  At  all  events,  after  a  good  deal 
of  palavering  and  soft-soaping  the  old  general  issued  an 
order  for  the  agent  to  turn  over  to  them  the  firearms 
with  the  understanding  that  they  should  return  to  the 
reservation  and  behave  themselves  and  commit  no  further 
depredations  on  any  person;  all  of  which  they  meekly 
agreed  to  perform.  It  was  not  24  hours  after  receiving 
the  arms  until  old  Black  Kettle  with  a  few  of  his  con- 
federates were  making  medicine  on  the  Pawnee  and  Wal- 
nut Creeks.  The  band  started  north  to  the  Saline  River 
and  commenced  the  most  atrocious  murders,  rapes,  and 
other  acts  too  abominable  to  be  placed  in  print.  They 
did  not  stop  there  to  complete  their  work  of  plunder  and 
pillage,  but  hastened  on  until  they  reached  the  Solomon 
river  where  their  villanous  and  blood-thirsty  designs  were 
carried  out  in  full  force  and  effect.  They  murdered 
about  fifteen  farmers  and  two  women,  and  committed 
other  depredations  and  horrors  too  hideous  to  repeat  here. 
They  carried  off  all  the  stock  they  could  find,  besides 
taking  away  two  little  girls  who  were  never  heard  of  af- 


268  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

terwards.  On  their  return  to  the  Saline  River  they1 
started  in  to  complete  the  work  of  destruction  they  had 
only  partly  accomplished  on  their  way  to  the  Solomon.  By 
this  time  the  farmers  had  congregated  at  a  farm  house 
and  were  making  ready  to  fight  them  when  they  should 
arrive.  They  did  not  have  long  to  wait,  for  they  were 
hardly  inside  the  farm  house  when  the  Indians  appeared 
and  began  their  pow-wow  and  war  cry  and  firing  into 
the  dwelling.  Just  about  the  time  they  were  getting  under 
headway  with  the  work  of  pillage  and  plunder,  Captain 
Benteen  heard  the  firing  and  came  to  the  rescue  of  the 
settlers.  He  had  heard  at  Fort  Zarah  that  the  Indians 
were  on  the  war-path  and  how  they  had  treated  two 
women  who  were  afterwards  taken  to  the  fort  for  care 
and  protection  after  their  bitter  experience  with  the 
noble  red  man.  He  started  out  with  a  troop  of  cavalry1 
and  reached  the  besieged  just  in  time  to  save  them 
from  the  horrors  which  they  would  be  compelled  to  face 
if  captured.  There  were  200  Cheyennes  on  .  that  raid 
and  when  Captain  Benteen  appeared  on  the  scene,  they 
scattered  like  a  flock  of  quail.  These  Indians  drifted 
back  in  the  direction  whence  they  had  come  and  re- 
mained a  short  while  with  the  Black  Kettle  band  on 
the  Walnut  and  finally  crossed  the  Arkansas  and  went 
southward  toward  the  Cimmaron  River. 

The  old  brigadier  general  had  by  this  time  awakened 
from  his  lethargy  and  found  that  he  had  been  out-gen- 
eralled  by  the  Indians.  He  decided  to  take  immediate 
steps  to  punish  them  for  their  treachery  and  deception. 
There  was  a  large  body  of  Indians  operating  between 
the  Arkansas  and  Cimmaron,  and  Brigadier  General  Sully 
concluded  to  go  out  and  give  them  a  good  thrashing  to 
settle  accounts  for  their  past  treachery  and  misdeeds. 
These  Indians  were  a  mixed  body  of  different  tribes  and 
seemed  as  anxious  to  meet  the  general  as  he  was  to  meet 
them.  After  three  different  engagements  in  which  the 
general  was  defeated,  he  was  compelled  to  return  to  Fort 
Dodge  to  avoid  being  captured  by  them. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Sheridan's    Arrival;    Kansas    Volunteers'     Disasterous 
March;  Sheridan's  Activity;  Ouster's  Engage- 
ment With  the  Indians,  Etc. 

About  this  time  General  Phil.  H.  Sheridan  made  his 
appearance  in  the  Indian  country,  bringing  some  ad- 
ditional soldiers  under  the  command  of  General  Ouster. 
He  also  asked  for  a  regiment  of  Kansas  volunteers.  His 
request  was  granted  and  the  recruits  were  placed  under 
the  command  of  Colonel  Crawford  with  orders  to  meet 
General  Sheridan  at  the  junction  of  Wolf  and  Beaver 
Creeks,  or  what  is  now  known  as  Camp  Supply. 

When  the  regiment  had  been  enrolled  and  the  men 
were  ready  and  anxious  to  make  the  journey,  General 
Sheridan,  in  order  to  faciliate  matters  and  avoid  any 
disappointment,  sent  two  guides  to  pilot  the  new  re- 
cruits to  their  destination.  It  was  now  getting  late 
in  the  year  and  each  day  brought  its  quota  of  snow,  rain, 
or  sleet,  but  in  spite  of  such  unfavorable  conditions,  the 
boys  made  no  complaint,  but  rode  patiently  along  their 
tedious  journey.  After  they  had  been  out  a  few  days 
the  colonel  seemed  to  grow  impatient  and  irritable,  and 
began  to  dictate  to  the  guides  and  volunteered  his  ad- 
vice as  to  the  direction  they  should  pursue.  He  wanted  to 
turn  to  the  left  and  cross  the  Cimmaron  River  and  in- 
sisted on  'his  idea  to  such  a  degree  that  the  guides,  or 
scouts,  withdrew  their  services  then  and  there  and  left 
him  to  select  when  and  where  he  would  elect  to  ford 
the  river.  The  weather  being  stormy  the  Colonel  lost  'his 
way  and  through  his  impatience  finally1  lost  his  head  and 
did  not  know  where  he  was.  The  brakes  and  canyons  on 
the  north  side  of  the  river  were  filled  with  snow  that 
had  drifted  in  from  the  prairie.  In  his  desperation  he 


270  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

started  to  cross  the  stream  and  spent  several  days  floun- 
dering around  through  the  snowbanks  and  drifts.  After 
he  succeeded  in  crossing  the  river  he  found  it  as  hard  to 
get  out  of  the  difficulty  as  it  was  to  get  into  it.  To  add 
to  his  misfortune,  he  had  neglected  to  bring  along  suf- 
ficient food  for  horses  or  men.  However,  he  succeeded  in 
getting  out  and  up  on  the  flats  south  of  the  river  at  the 
expense  of  a  great  number  of  horses,  but  was  fortunate 
enough  not  to  lose  a  single  man.  The  situation  was  not 
improved  in  any  measure  as  he  did  not  know  where  hi; 
was.  He  continued  southward  until  he  reached  the  North 
Canadian  River.  Here  his  remaining  horses  kept  them- 
selves alive  by  browsing  in  the  timber  while  the  men  were 
compelled1  to  live  on  what  hackberries  they  could  find. 

As  Colonel  Crawford  did  not  arrive  at  the  expected 
time,  nor  for  several  days  afterward,  General  Sheridan 
became  anxious  for  his  safety  and  sent  out  scouts  to  see 
if  any  trace  of  him  could  be  found.  With  much  risk 
and  effort  they  found  the  colonel  and  what  was  left  Ox 
his  cavalry  about  twenty  miles  below  the  designated  place 
of  meeting.  To  say  they  were  in  a  deplorable  condition, 
would  be  putting  it  mildly.  The  moment  General  Sheri- 
dan received  word  of  the  disaster  that  had  befallen  Col- 
onel Crawford's  command,  he  sent  out  men  and  teams 
to  their  relief  with  instructions  to  bring  them  into  camp. 
The  relief  party  did  not  arrive  any  too  soon  as  the  men 
and  horses  were  in  a  very  sorry  plight,  owing  to  their 
lack  of  nourishing  food.  One  thing  alone  was  in  their 
favor  in  their  present  deplorable  condition  and  that  was 
the  abundant  supply  of  dead  timber  at  hand  which  af- 
forded them  an  opportunity  to  keep  warm,  or  rather  keep 
from  freezing,  a  thing  which  was  entirely  lacking  on  the 
Cimmaron.  I  may  as  well  say  that  they  were  all  afoot 
by  this  time,  as  the  horses  that  were  still  alive,  were 
reduced  to  such  a  state  of  weakness  that  they  were  un- 
able to  carry  their  riders.  It  took  two  days  to  get  them 
into  camp,  owing  to  their  enfeebled  condition.  General 
Sheridan's  headquarters  was  then  located  on  the  north 


OK  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  271 

bank  of  the  North  Canadian  river  about  four  or  five  miles 
south  east  of  where  the  present  city  of  Woodward,  Okla., 
is  situated.  On  the  departure  of  the  command  from  To- 
peka  the  newspapers  in  flaming  headlines  announced  the 
affair  to  the  world,  but  their  great  expectations  were 
converted  into  "Crowford's  Calamity." 

In  the  face  of  all  this  vexatious  delay,  awaiting  re- 
enforcements  from  Colonel  Crawford,  General  Sheridan 
did  not  relax  his  energy  in  the  least.  He  kept  everybody 
at  work  fixing  up  a  base  of  supplies  that  would  be  in  his 
reach  until  the  termination  of  that  campaign  which  he  in- 
tended to  settle  during  the  winter  months  whilst  the  In- 
dian ponies  were  poor  and  weak  and  unable  to  transport 
belongings  any  distance.  He  also  knew  that  if  he  delayed 
matters  until  warm  weather  when  there  would  be  plenty 
of  grass,  he  would  have  to  fight  those  Indians  from  the 
British  possessions  to  Texas.  He  was  down  there  to  fight 
those  Indians  or  make  them  return  to  their  reservations 
to  remain  there  and  behave  themselves  and  stop  prowling 
all  over  the  country  committing  depredations.  He  had 
no  time  to  engage  in  peace  treaties  and  had  no  guns  to 
turn  over  to  them,  and  there  was  no  chance  for  any  trick- 
ery or  treachery  with  him.  He  did  not  want  to  smoke 
the  pipe  of  peace  with  them  and  then  be  shot  in  the  back 
and  killed  as  Turkey  Legs  and  his  band  did  with  his 
scouts  Comstock  and  Glover.  He  was  there  for  perma- 
nent peace  or  a  permanent  fight  and  the  choice  rested 
with  them.  There  was  no  swapping  of  horses  or  palaver- 
ing. He  meant  business. 

By  this  time  General  Sheridan's  headquarters  very 
much  resembled  a  Canadian  North-west  logging  camp. 
Everybody  was  kept  busy,  some  hauling  logs,  others  dig- 
ging trenches  for  the  stockades,  others  were  bringing 
poles  and  brush  to  cover  rude  pole  sheds  for  the  purpose 
of  affording  a  temporary  shelter  for  the  stock.  If  there 
was  anybody  idle,  it  was  some  one  who  was  too  ill  to 
work,  or  who  had  hidden  in  the  brush  to  avoid  work.  The 
scouts  were  kept  busy  scouring  the  country  in  search  of 


272  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

some  trail  or  sign  of  the  Indians  and  finally  were  re- 
warded by  the  discovery  of  a  trail  leading  southward, 
which  showed  a  large  body  of  Indians  had  gone  in  that 
direction.  On  receiving  that  information  General  Ouster 
asked  permission  from  General  Sheridan  to  fit  out  an 
expedition  to  follow  them.  The  request  was  readily 
granted  by  General  Sheridan,  as  he  was  anxious  to  bring 
the  campaign  to  a  close  as  speedily  as  possible.  As  soon 
as  Ouster  had  his  troops  in  proper  shape  he  set  out  in  the 
direction  indicated  by  the  scouts.  After  crossing  "Wolf 
Creek  and  getting  well  up  on  the  divide  he  discovered 
the  trail,  but  found  it  very  difficult  to  follow  owing:  to 
the  snow  having  drifted  and  covered  any  marks  they  had 
left  behind  them.  Occasionally,  where  the  wind  had  blown 
the  the  snow  from  some  high  place  he  found  all  evidence 
required  to  justify  him  in  keeping  up  the  pursuit.  He 
maintained  his  route  until  he  reached  the  north  brakes 
of  the  South  Canadian  and  went  into  camp  for  the  night 
in  the  least  protected  place  he  could  find  and  made  things 
as  comfortable  as  circumstances  would  permit.  Next 
morning  after  taking  a  survey  of  the  situation  he  found 
himself  confronted  with  a  great  and  dangerous  under- 
taking through  having  to  ford  the  river.  As  every  man 
who  has  ever  crossed  it  with  a  loaded  wagon  knows,  it 
is  one  of  the  most  treacherous  streams  to  ford,  in  the 
Southwest ;  and  to  add  to  the  miry  condition  of  the  river 
it  was  frozen  over,  but  the  ice  was  not  of  sufficient 
thickness  to  bear  the  weight  of  the  horses,  much  less  the 
heavy  wagons  that  were  to  follow  them.  General  Ouster, 
a  perservering  and  an  energetic  man,  was  not  daunted 
by  this  present  difficulty.  He  sloped  down  the  bank  of 
the  river  and  set  his  men  to  work  cutting  a  channel 
across  and  clearing  the  ice  from  it,  so  that  it  would  not 
cut  or  injure  the  stock  in  crossing.  After  passing  the 
cavalry  back  and  forth  several  times  to  settle  the  quick- 
sand, he  sent  forward  the  freight  and  supply  wagons  and 
with  great  difficulty  succeeded  in  landing  on  the  south 
side.  Here  he  stopped  for  dinner  as  it  was  after  twelve 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  273 

o'clock  when  the  last  wagon  passed  up  the  bank.  After 
dinner  they  hooked  up  and  started  on  their  perilous  under 
taking  of  climbing  and  winding  their  dangerous  way 
through  the  canyons  and  sand  hills  until  they  reached 
the  flats  that  divide  the  South  Canadian  and  Washita 
Rivers.  The  distance  traveled  that  afternoon  was  not 
very  great  but  the  difficulties  and  obstacles  to  be  over- 
come were  very  trying.  The  general  decided  to  have  an 
early  supper  and  after  a  consultation  with  his  officers 
determined  to  make  a  night  drive  as  the  moon  shone 
brightly  and  the  trail  was  now  becoming  so  plain  that 
the  scouts  felt  there  would  be  no  difficulty  in  following 
it.  Accordingly  they  hitched  up  after  their  slight  rest 
and  set  out  under  the  leadership  of  two  Osage  Indian 
scouts  together  with  California  Joe,  a  white  man  who 
had  been  on  the  frontier  all  his  life  and  who  understood 
the  language  of  the  different  tribes.  Custer  had  learned 
from  his  scouts  that  it  was  the  intention  of  the  Indians  to 
go  into  winter  quarters  on  the  Washita,  but  was  not  cer- 
tain of  the  exact  locality.  Consequently  he  had  to  use 
great  caution  in  trying  to  discover  their  where  abouts. 
He  found  some  smouldering  campfires,  which  showed 
that  they  were  not  very  far  in  advence.  The  scouts  did 
not  proceed  very  much  farther  until  one  of  them  on  look- 
ing over  a  bluff  discovered  the  main  camp  and  then 
hastened  back  and  made  the  fact  known  to  the  general. 
Custer  then  and  there  stopped  the  outfit  and  went  into 
consultation  with  his  officers.  It  was  now  past  twelve 
o'clock  and  he  decided  to  make  no  attack  until  after 
daybreak.  He  arranged  to  divide  'his  force  into  four 
different  sections,  each  squad  to  be  under  the  command 
of  an  officer,  and  at  daylight,  at  the  sound  of  the  bugle, 
they  were  to  make  a  charge.  All  was  carried  out  as 
planned,  with  the  precision  of  clockwork.  At  dawn  thd 
cugle  sounded  and  the  band  struck  up  the  tune  of  "  Garry 
Owen"  and  the  troops  dashed  in  on  the  gallop.  When 
they  reached  the  camp  from  the  different  directions,  the 
battle  began.  At  the  first  volley  fired,  the  Indians  tried 


274  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

to  escape,  and  some  of  them  succeeded  in  getting  away, 
but  the  most  of  them  were  shot  down,  either  in  their 
teepees,  or  as  they  were  fleeing  to  some  place  of  safety; 
others  dropped  behind  trees  or  logs  and  fought  like  de- 
mons, but  it  was  useless  as  they  were  overmatched.  When 
the  smoke  of  battle  cleared  away  there  were  over  one 
hundred  dead  Indians  lying  on  the  camp  ground. 

It  was  General  Sherman,  I  believe,  who  said  "war  is 
hell,"  a  statement  which  proved  to  be  absolutely  cor- 
rect in  this  instance  for  the  wailing  of  the  squaws  and  the 
screaming  of  the  papooses  together  with  the  groans  of  the 
dying  made  a  wierd  accompaniment  to  the  cracking  of 
rifles  and  the  commands  of  the  officers.  After  the  flurry 
of  the  battle  had  somewhat  subsided,  Ouster  ordered  all 
that  were  alive,  squaws  and  papooses,  to  be  taken  prison- 
ers and  put  in  charge  of  a  squad  of  soldiers,  whilst  the 
remainder  busied  themselves  burning  the  teepees,  pro- 
visions, and  other  camp  equipage  found  there.  When  the 
work  of  destruction  was  completed  he  ordered  all  their 
ponies,  about  two  hundred  in  number,  to  be  brought  in 
and  shot.  To  the  reader  this  may  appear  cruel  and  in- 
human, but  it  was  only  a  just  retribution  for  the  deeds 
this  same  band  had  committed  on  the  Saline  and  Solomon 
Rivers  in  Kansas,  where  they  spared  neither  age  nor  sex, 
but  perpetrated  outrages  on  women  that  are  too  beastly 
for  publication,  and  this  was  a  small  installment  on  what 
was  due  them.  On  roll  call  it  was  found  that  Major 
Elliot  and  fifteen  men  were  missing. 

The  Kiowas  and  the  Comanche  tribes  were  camped 
but  three  or  four  miles  below  where  the  battle  took  place, 
and  it  did  not  take  them  very  long  to  make  their  ap- 
pearance about  five  or  six  thousand  strong.  Here  was  a 
fresh  problem  for  Ouster  to  solve.  If  he  was  looking  for 
a  fight  with  the  Indians,  they  were  at  hand.  Why  did 
he  not  attack  them?  Why  did  they  not  attack  him? 
Why  did  not  Ouster  make  an  effort  to  find  out  what  had 
become  of  Major  Elliot  and  the  fifteen  missing  men 
who  had  been  with  him.  I  shall  explain  that  as  I  see 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  275 

it  from  my  point  of  view.  There  is  no  doubt  in  my  mind 
that  General  Ouster  was  afraid  to  attack  those  two  tribes, 
and  was  also  afraid  to  make  an  attempt  to  find  Major 
Elliot  and  his  companions,  as  his  conduct  that  evening 
abundantly  proves.  He  'had  sent  his  scout,  California 
Joe,  with  a  dispatch  telling  Sheridan  of  his  condition  and 
asking  him  to  send  re-enforcements  at  once.  That  after- 
noon he  held  a  consultation  with  his  officers  and  decided 
to  return  to  Camp  Supply  to  reorganize  his  men  and  get 
more  forces  to  engage  in  battle  with  those  two  tribes.  N,ow 
the  question  might  be  asked,  why  did  not  the  Indians 
attack  him?  There  was  but  one  reason  and  that  was 
that  they  were  afraid.  They  had  force  enough  to  de- 
feat Custer,  but  there  was  something  else  to  take  into 
consideration.  They  knew  General  Sheridan  was  some- 
place in  the  country  and  was,  perhaps,  at  that  time 
waiting  to  catch  them  in  a  trap.  They  were  not  afraid 
of  Custer  and  his  command,  but  they  knew  that  if  Sheri- 
dan ever  got  them  in  a  tight  place,  it  would  be  good-bye, 
Mr.  Indian,  for  there  would  be  nothing  left  of  him.  It 
was  a  plain  case  of  wheer  Custer  was  afraid  and  the 
other  'dassent,'  it  averted,  as  a  result,  one  of  the  worst 
slaughters  that  ever  occured  in  the  Indian  Territory. 

In  looking  over  the  dead,  Chief  Black  Kettle  was 
identified.  He  had  been  instrumental  in  starting  out  the 
band  that  had  committed  all  the  depredations  in  the 
Saline  and  Solomon  valleys,  and  but  a  few  months  prior  to 
this  time  had  defiantly  refused,  when  asked  by  General 
Sheridan  to  come  into  Fort  Dodge  with  the  promise  that 
he  would  be  properly  cared  for.  He  declared  that  he  was 
going  on  the  warpath  and  made  good  his  declaration  as 
the  battle  on  the  Washita  will  show. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Sheridan's  Camp;  Discovery  of  Elliot  and  Companions;  A 

Truce ;  Capture  of  Comanches  and  Kiowas 

Return  to  Camp. 

The  night  of  the  battle,  Ouster  started  for  Camp 
Supply  and  very  nearly  overtook  his  scout,  California 
Joe,  as  the  latter  had  to  hide  so  much  on  the  way  to  avoid 
being  caught  by  the  Indians;  and  I  believe  that  Custer 
made  a  record  trip,  as  he  was  afraid  of  the  same  thing. 
When  he  returned  and  Major  Elliots  absence  was  not 
satisfactorily  explained,  General  Sheridan  showed  great 
dissatisfaction.  He  issued  an  order  to  get  everything  in 
readiness  at  once  and  decided  to  take  a  hand  in  that 
business  himself  to  see  if  he  could  not  discover  what  had 
become  of  Elliot.  The  Kansas  volunteers  having  lost 
most  of  their  horses  in  the  snow  banks  on  the  Cimmaron. 
River,  with  the  remainder  unfit  for  service,  were  orga- 
nized as  infantry  and  taken  along.  In  fact,  every  avail- 
able man  was  taken  from  Camp  Supply  except  those  who 
were  required  to  guard  the  provisions  and  look  after  the 
stock.  Although  Sheridan  was  a  graduate  of  West  Point, 
he  never  encumbered  himself  with  any  West  Point  tac- 
tics in  fighting  Indians.  He  just  put  on  his  fighting 
clothes  and  set  out  to  whip  them  into  subjection  regard- 
less of  any  military  parade,  and  usually  accomplished 
what  he  set  out  to  do.  There  was  one  feature  of  all  his 
expeditions  which  he  never  neglected,  and  that  was  that 
he  never  failed  to  keep  in  touch  with  the  best  and  most 
reliable  scouts  and  guides  to  be  found,  and  once  he  had 
secured  them  he  never  failed  to  be  governed  by  their  in- 
structions, as  he  was  well  aware  that  such  men  under- 
stood the  topography  of  the  country  much  better  than 
some  titled  professor  of  a  military  academy.  Such  scouts 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  277 

he  found  on  this  occasion.  He  took  along  as  his  guide  and 
chief  of  scouts,  one  Ben  Clark,  because  Ben  was  married 
into  the  Cheyenne  tribe  and  understood  and  spoke  the 
different  tribal  languages  fluently.     He  also  took  along 
California  Joe,  as  he  was  a  good  scout  and  was  familiar 
with  all  the  customs  and  habits  of  the  Indians,  having 
lived  and  dealt  with  them  all  the  way  from  California  to 
Texas.    He  was  invaluable  as  a  scout  and  guide,  but  had 
one  fault,  of  which  I  shall  speak  later  on,  that  tried  the 
patience  of  the  general  sorely  at  times,  but  still  Sheridan 
could  not  afford  to  part  with  him.    Those  two,  with  the 
addition  to  two  Osage  Indian  scouts,  were  all  that  he 
brought  into  service.    When  everything  was  in  readiness 
the  general  set  out  with  the  firm  determination  to  set- 
tle the  Indian  trouble  for  once  and  for  all  time  to  come, 
if  possible.    He  took  General  Custer  with  him,  as  he  was 
familiar  with  the  route  and  also  with  the  locality  of  the 
recent  battle.     He  took  as  his  ambulance  driver  Johnny 
^turphy,  a  lad  scarcely  out  of  his  teens  and  who  acted 
in  that  capacity  until  the  close  of  the  campaign.    The  first 
night  out  they  camped  on  the  south  bank  of  Wolf  Creek 
where  they  found  an  abundance  of  timber  and  living 
water,  two  essentials  at  that  time  as  the  weather  was 
hovering  around  the  zero  mark.    The  men  were  becoming 
accustomed  to  the  cold  and  stood  up  in  it  like  Esquimaux. 
Nex,t  morning  they  were  up  and  away  to  cross  the  divide 
to  the  South  Canadian.     The  snow  was  still  quite  deep 
on  the  flats  and  the  moisture  had  softened  the  soil  which 
had  not  frozen  sufficiently  to  hold  up  the  heavy  freight 
wagons,  which  made  it  a  tedious  and  toilsome  trip  to 
reach  the  river.    Clark  being  acquainted  with  the  country 
guided  them  down  a  canyon  where  they  found  timber 
and  a  fair  shelter.     There  they  went  into  camp  for  the 
night.    Next  morning  one  of  the  real  trials  of  the  journey 
confronted  them.     The  river  had  to  be  forded  and  they 
were  forced  to  repeat  the  labors  that  Custer  had  per- 
formed on  the  former  occasion  and  as  the  ice  was  not 
thick  enough  to  bear  a  heavy  weight.     They  had  to  cut 


278  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

a  channel  and  remove  the  ice  from  it  and  trample  the 
quicksand  with  the  cavalry  to  make  it  fordable  for  the 
wagons.     They  accomplished  the  crossing  with  a  great 
deal  of  difficulty  and  hardships,  as  most  of  them  were 
wet   from   trampeling   through   the   stream    or   assisting 
the  lumbering  wagons  on  their  way.    When  the  last  team 
had  crossed  they  were  glad  to  know  that  this  difficulty 
had  been  overcome.     (The  reader  sitting  on  a  balcony, 
viewing  troops  of  cavalry  prancing  along  the  paved  streets 
seems  to  enjoy  the  spectacle  and  can  easily  come  to  imag- 
ine that  the  cavalry  man's  life  is  one  continual  round  of 
pleasure,  but  let  him  change  his  location  and  go  and  sit 
with  me  on  the  south  porch  of  a  snow  bank  and  see  those 
same  soldiers  fording  a  treacherous  stream  in  the  winter 
season  and  his  impressions  of  the  gay  and  happy  life  will 
be  suddenly  changed.)    When  out  of  the  brakes  and  the 
canyons  they  were  on  the  last  lap  of  their  journey  to  the 
battle  ground  where  Ouster  'had  wound  up  the  wild  and 
turbulent  care'er  of  Black  Kettle  and  his  band  of  Chey- 
enne warriors.    This  day  was  but  a  repetition  of  the  day 
before  except  that  at  noon  they  camped  long  enough  to 
feed  the  stock  some  grain,  as  the  mules  were  becoming 
tired  and  jaded  from  the  bad  condition  of  the  prairie. 
After  dinner  they  resumed  their  journey  and  that  evening 
went  into  camp  about  two  miles  from,  tlie  scene  of  Ous- 
ter's fight  with  the  Cheyennes  a  few  days  previous.  Next 
morning  they  set  out  and  in  a  short  time  arrived  at  the 
battle  ground.    They  stopped  to  examine  the  place  which 
gave  every  evidence  of  a  severe  conflict.    After  S'heridan 
had  examined  the  field  he  sent  out  scouts  and  squads  of 
soldiers  to  scour  the  surrounding  country  in  search  of 
Major  Elliott  and  the  fifteen  missing  men.     They  were 
found  about  two  miles  from  the  battle  ground,  dead,  and 
stripped  of  their  clothing  and  mutilated  in  the  most  hor- 
rible   manner.     The    mutilation    was    the    work    of    the 
squaws.    They  had  not  been  scalped  and  their  bodies  lay 
not  very  far  apart  and  the  number  of  empty  shells  lying 
near  each  body  showed  the  desperate  defense  they  had 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  279 

made.  It  was  learned  afterward  that  Major  Elliott  had 
followed  a  band  of  fugitives  and  captured  them,  and 
when  returning  was  met  and  overpowered  by  a  large 
band  of  Kiowas  and  their  dead  bodies  were  left  there 
for  the  squaws  to  mutilate.  When  this  discovery  was 
made  and  the  news  brought  to  Gen.  Sheridan,  he  was  in 
no  frame  of  mind  to  adopt  any  conciliatory  measures 
towards  the  Indians,  besides  it  had  a  strong  tendency  to 
lessen  his  respect  for  Gen.  Ouster  for  not  making  some 
effort  to  learn  what  had  become  of  Major  Elliot  and 
his  fifteen  companions.  Sheridan  was  now  in  the  right 
humor  for  a  fight.  He  wanted  to  fight  and  was  going  to 
have  a  fight  or  a  footrace  with  the  first  Indians  he  met. 
He  started  down  the  Washita,  where  the  Kiowas  and  the 
Comanches  had  their  headquarters.  His  progress  was 
closely  watched  by  the  Indians.  They  pulled  up  every- 
thing and  moved  on  in  advance  of  him,  but  well  out  of 
his  reach.  They  were  certainly  in  a  predicament  as  they 
could  not  cover  up  their  trail  by  scattering  out  over  the 
plain,  as  they  would  do  in  summer  time,  as  the  snow  on 
the  prairie  gave  evidence  of  every  move  they  made  and 
things  were  in  such  a  shape  that  it  was  either  fight  or 
surrender.  Gen.  Sheridan  did  not  seem  to  care  which. 
They  continued  to  move  down  stream  with  Sheridan  in 
pursuit  until  the  third  day  when  they  sent  a  messenger 
back  carrying  a  white  flag  and  a  letter  from  Gen.  Hazen, 
chairman  of  the  peace  committee,  asking  for  a  confer- 
ence with  the  General.  The  reader  can  readily'  see  about 
how  Sheridan  felt  on  the  subject.  He  sent  back  word  to 
them  that  there  was  but  one  way  in  which  he  would  rec- 
ognize Hazen 's  request  for  a  conference  and  that  was  that 
he  would  give  them  twenty-four  hours  to  surrender  and 
come  in  as  prisoners  of  war,  or  a  fight  would  start  at  the 
expiration  of  that  time.  He  was  compelled  to  acknowl- 
edge the 'flag  of  truce  and  the  Indians  were  well  aware 
of  that  fact.  Reluctantly  he  gave  them  the  24  hours  to 
surrender  or  prepare  for  battle,  as  the  recent  outrages 
on  the  settlers  on  the  Saline  and  Solomon  Rivers,  thg 


280  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

barbarous  treatment  of  Major  Elliot  and  his  companions 
were  fresh  in  the  mind  of  Sheridan.  The  Indian,  aware 
of  the  value  of  the  flag  of  truce  used  it  always  to  his  ad- 
vantage when  in  a  tight  place,  though  they  had  no  re- 
spect for  it  in  their  own  dealings  with  others.  Sheridan 
was  waiting  anxiously  for  the  expiration  of  the  time  of 
truce,  but  the  Indians  forestalled  the  allotted  time  by 
about  four  hours.  If  the  thing  was  to  be  done  over  again, 
I  do  not  believe  that  Sheridan  would  have  paid  any  atten- 
tion to  the  flag  of  truce,  as  the  first  sight  that  met  the 
General's  eye  after  he  had  marched  into  their  camp  and 
taken  Chief  Lone  Wolf  and  Chief  Satanta  prisoners,  was 
the  body  of  a  white  woman  who  had  been  kidnapped 
from  near  Fort  Lyon  by  Satanta  and  kept  to  gratify  his 
savage  lust.  When  he  found  escape  impossible,,  he  shot 
her  to  avoid  giving  her  up  to  her  rescuers  and  took  her 
white  child  by  the  feet  and  dashed  its  brains  out  against 
a  tree.  When  the  fiend  shot  the  woman,  whose  name 
was  Mrs.  Blynn,  he  held  the  gun  so  close  to  her  that  her 
face  was  powder-burned.  In  her  death,  I  imagine  that 
there  was  relief  brought  to  one  poor  tortured  soul. 

During  the  armistice,  which  did  not  last  twenty-four 
hours,  the  Indians  killed  all  their  ponies  rather  than  turn 
them  over  to  their  conquerors.  After  the  preliminaries 
of  surrender  were  completed,  they  were  ordered  back  to 
Ft.  Cobb  and  accordingly  started  back  to  fulfill  their 
agreement.  Any  one  familiar  with  the  lay  of  that  coun- 
try can  begin  to  appreciate  the  difficulty  Gen.  Sheridan 
had  on  hand.  Moreover,  the  reluctance  of  the  Indians  to 
return  made  the  journey  all  the  more  difficult.  They1 
had  a  thousand  different  excuses  to  delay  the  journey, 
but  it  availed  them  nothing.  They  were  kept  on  the 
move  and  closely  watched.  In  spite  of  the  vigilance  ex- 
ercised by  the  troops,  some  of  the  Indians  managed  to 
escape.  At  every  opportunity  some  of  them  would  dodge 
through  the  brush  along  the  way  and  make  their  escape. 
Satanta  seeing  the  success  of  his  companions,  made  a 
dash  for  liberty  also.  He  was  immediately  captured  by 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  281 

the  soldiers  and  put  in  handcuffs.  To  show  no  partiality 
in  the  matter,  Chief  Lone  Wolf  was  also  manacled.  To 
give  further  proof  of  his  intentions  to  compel  them  to 
submit,  he  told  Lone  Wolf  and  Satanta  that  unless  those 
Indians  who  had  made  their  escape  did  not  return  very 
soon,  he  would  hang  the  two  of  them  without  ceremony. 
That  put  a  different  complexion  on  things.  The  two 
chiefs  immediately  communicated  with  their  followers, 
who  at  once  sent  out  runners  in  different  directions  to 
bring  back  the  escaped  prisoners.  They  succeeded  in 
bringing  in  most  of  them;  in  fact  enough  of  them  re- 
turned to  move  Sheridan  to  defer  the  hanging  of  the  two 
chiefs. 

It  is  my  belief  that  Sheridan  afterward  regretter 
that  he  did  not  hang  the  two  of  them,  as  they  richly  de- 
served it  for  their  past  atrocities.  I  had  the  pleasure 
last  year,  1912,  of  seeing  old  Chief  Lone  Wolf  strutting 
around  the  streets  of  Hobart,  Okla.,  wearing  a  celluloid 
collar  and  derby  hat,  breaking  himself  into  the  habits 
and  customs  of  the  white  man.  The  sight  of  him  caused 
me  to  wonder  if  he  ever  stopped  to  consider  how  near 
he  came  to  having  his  neck  cracked  by  Gen.  Sheridan 
and  how  richly  he  deserved  it. 

After  carefully  looking  over  the  situation  in  all  its 
different  aspects,  Sheridan  concluded  that  Fort  Cobb 
was  not  the  proper  place  to  establish  his  headquarters. 
He  decided  to  take  all  his  prisoners  over  to  Cache  Creek 
where  he  would  have  more  and  better  material  to  con- 
struct a  small  fort  for  the  protection  of  the  frontier  of 
Texas.  This  part  had  been  subjected  to  the  raids  of  the 
Indians  very  frequently  in  the  past  and  they  were  likely 
to  make  an  incursion  at  any  time.  When  he  had  brought 
m,ost  of  the  Indians  there,  he  set  to  work  building  tem- 
porary headquarters  and  gave  the  place  the  name  of 
Fort  Sill,  after  one  of  his  old  schoolmates.  He  held 
Satanta,  Lone  Wolf,  Little  Robe,  and  several  other  lesser 
chiefs  as  hostages  for  the  faithful  performance  of  all  the 
conditions  of  the  surrender  with  the  explicit  understand- 


282  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

ing  that  any  violation  of  any  of  the  terms  of  it  would 
mean  the  hanging  of  the  whole  party.  This  under- 
standing had  a  very  salutary  effect  and  a  strong  ten- 
dency to  establish  order  and  discipline.  These  acts  may 
seem  to  show  Sheridan  to  be  a  cruel  man,  but  I  will  say, 
judging  from  his  action  in  caring  for  the  remains  of 
Mrs.  Blynn  and  her  child  who  had  been  so  brutally 
murdered,  in  taking  them  to  Port  Arbuckle  and  giving 
them  a  Christian  burial,  he  has  shown  that  his  heart 
was  in  the  right  place. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

California  Joe's  Weakness;   A  Trip  to  Camp  Supply; 

Bringing  in  Renegade  Indians;   Expedition  to 

Pandhandle,  etc. 

Previously  to  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing,  the 
General  had  sent  a  bunch  of  cavalry  horses  to  Fort 
Arbuckle  where  he  had  made  arrangements  for  their 
keep.  The  Chickasaw  and  Choctaw  Indians  raised  some 
crops  and  had  feed  to  spare  and  agreed  to  look  after 
the  horses.  The  General  thought  by  this  time  they 
would  be  sufficiently  recuperated  to  be  of  service  to  him 
in  his  present  needs.  Consequently  he  fitted  up  an 
escort  and  an  ambulance  and  took  California  Joe  along 
as  scout  and  guide  to  go  and  get  them.  (I  promised  the 
reader  to  tell  him  of  Joe's  one  fault  and  will  take  this 
opportunity  of  doing  so.)  When  they  had  arrived  at 
Ft.  Arbuckle,  they  found  everything  in  better  shape  than 
they  had  expected.  The  General  began  making  prepara- 
tions for  his  return  to  Fort  Sill.  When  everything  was 
ready  he  found  to  his  surprise  and  amazemeint  that 
California  Joe  was  gloriously  drunk.  As  the  prohibitory 
law  in  regard  to  the  sale  of  intoxicants  was  in  full  force, 
in  the  Indian  Territory,  he  could  not  account  for  Joe's 
condition.He  thought  he  would  remain  over  a  day  or 
so  to  give  Joe  a  chance  to  sleep  off  the  effects  of  his 
overdose  of  liquid  joy.  The  next  day  found  Joe  as 
happy  as  a  clam  in  high  water  and  there  was  no  indica- 
tion of  a  scarcity  of  liquor.  The  General  was  face  to 
face  with  a  difficulty.  He  could  not  remain  longer  at 
Ft.  Arbuckle,  and  he  could  not  go  on  without  Joe,  as 
he  might  need  his  services  at  any  time.  Patience  ceased 
to  be  a  virtue  and  he  bundled  Joe  into  the  ambulance, 
jumped  in  himself  and  started  off.  They  all  reached 


284  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

Fort  Sill  the  next  day  safe  and  sober.  In  the  meantime 
the  General  had  not  learned  where  his  scout  had  ob- 
tained the  liquor  to  make  him  drunk.  Joe  himself  told 
me  years  afterwards  that  he  had  obtained  access  to  the 
General's  jug. 

Upon  his  arrival  at  the  fort,  he  found  everything 
in  as  good  condition  as  the  circumstances  might  warrant. 
It  was  a  city  of  soldiers  and  Indians.  The  habitations 
consisted  of  teepees  and  tents,  while  dug-outs  were  in 
course  of  construction  in  case  of  a  storm. 

As  it  was  one  of  Gen.  Sheridan's  principles  to  allow 
no  guilty  man  to  escape,  he  ordered  Gen.  Ouster  to  take 
a  company  of  men,  mounted  on  the  horses  he  had  brought 
from  Ft.  Arbuckle,  with  some  scouts  among  whom  was 
to  be  found  California  Joe,  and  proceed  to  the  head  of 
the  Red  river  and  bring  back  those  Indians  who  had  es- 
caped after  the  surrender  when  returning  to  Ft.  Cobb. 

After  Gen.  Custer  had  taken  his  departure.  Gen. 
Sheridan  made  provision  for  the  policing  and  govern- 
ment of  the  camp,  also  for  the  distribution  of  rations 
to  the  Indians  during  his  absence.  As  soon  as  he  had 
completed  these  regulations  in  a  satisfactory  manner, 
he  began  his  own  preparations  for  a  trip  to  Camp  Sup- 
ply. All  these  things  took  time  and  caused  him  no 
little  vexation,  but  he  was  equal  to  the  emergency;  and 
as  soon  as  the  work  was  done  he  took  his  escort  and 
full  camp  equipage  and  set  out.  It  was  now  getting 
along  toward  the  first  of  March  and  the  soft  soil  made 
th'e  wheeling  of  all  vehicles  a  slavish  task  for  man  and 
beast.  In  spite  of  this  difficulty,  he  proceeded  on  his 
way  and  crossed  the  Washita  above  Ft.  Cobb  and  con- 
tinued in  a  northerly  direction  until  he  reached  the 
South  Canadian  where  to  his  great  surprise  he  found 
the  water  very  low,  and  what  was  more  pleasing,  he 
found  that  the  ice  was  all  gone.  The  season  was  not  far 
enough  advanced  to  thaw  the  snow  on  the  mountains 
and  consequently,  the  river  being  almost  dry,  was  easily 
forded.  It  is  unnecessary  for  me  to  go  into  details  of 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  285 

that  journey  as  it  was  but  a  repetition  of  his  former  trip 
to  Fort  Sill,  except  for  the  floundering  around  in  the 
snow  banks  and  the  cutting  of  a  passage  through  the 
ice  to  make  a  crossing  possible.  These  latter  difficulties 
he  escaped,  owing  to  the  lateness  of  the  season.  Difficult 
passages  through  bad  canyons  were  also  avoided  owing 
to  Ben  Clark's  thorough  knowledge  of  the  country.  At 
best,  it  was  a  tedious  journey  and  on  the  seventh  day 
after  leaving  Fort  Sill,  he  crossed  the  North  Canadian 
just  below  the  junction  where  the  Beaver  and  Wolf 
Creeks  form  the  headquarters  of  the  North  Canadian. 
From  there  he  proceeded  to  Camp  Supply,  which  was 
only  a  short  distance  away.  When  Sheridan  arrived  at 
the  camp,  he  found  a  message  awaiting  him,  which  had 
been  brought  from  Fort  Dodge,  Kansas,  by  stage.  The 
despatch  contained  the  announcement  of  his  promotion  to 
the  position  of  Lieut.  General  of  the  army  and  requested 
him  to  proceed  at  one  to  Washington,  D.  C.  Sheridan 
did  not  seem  much  surprised  at  his  promotion,  and  con- 
tinued to  perform  his  usual  duties  of  looking  after  the 
Indians  and  ordering  supplies.  (He  saw  to  it  that  those 
old  squaws  who  had  mangled  and  mutilated  his  soldier- 
comrades  should  be  properly  cared  for  as  prisoners  of 
war.)  (In  fact,  he  was  about  the  busiest  man  in  camp.) 
Before  Gen.  Sheridan  had  left  Camp  Sill,  Gen.  Custer 
had  returned  from  his  trip  to  the  head  of  Red  river, 
which  he  had  made  at  his  own  request.  He  reported 
that  he  had  found  nothing  but  a  bleak  waste.  He 
stated  that  there  was  no  sign  of  animal  or  vegetable 
life  to  be  seen  and  that  he  did  not  think  it  possible  for 
the  Indians  to  subsist  there.  On  hearing  this  report  Gen. 
Sheridan  said  nothing  but  took  the  matter  into  con- 
sideration and,  after  revolving  the  affair  in  his  own 
mind  for  some  time,  it  was  plain  to  be  seen  that  he  was 
dissatisfied  with  the  report.  He  ordered  Gen.  Custer  to 
increase  his  force  by  taking  the  Kansas  volunteers  and 
mounting  them  on  the  horses  he  had  brought  from  Fort 
Arbuckle,  to  refit  and  refurnish  them  thirty  days  rations 


286  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

and  return.  He  also  ordered  him  to  take  a  full  comple- 
ment of  scouts  and  scour  the  country  until  he  did  find 
the  Indians  and  bring  them  into  Camp  Supply,  or  whip 
them  into,  subjection,  fwitti  all  /of  which  Custer  was 
ready  to  cheerfully  comply.  The  camp  was  now  alive, 
each  soldier  fitting  up  his  belongings  for  a  return  trip. 
Gen.  Sheridan  told  Custer  that  he  had  to  return  to  Supply 
and  that  he  wanted  the  Indian  business  closed  up  as 
soon  as  possible  and  for  all  time  to  come ;  that  he  did 
not  want  the  band  left  at  liberty  until  the  grass  was 
green  as  they  would  then  be  self-supporting  and  could 
prey  upon  the  stockmen  and  the  settlers  at  will;  that  if 
was  his  duty  to  prevent  this  and  he  would,  regardless  of 
consequences. 

It  did  not  take  long  to  make  the  proper  prepara- 
tions for  the  return  trip,  and  Custer  took  a  sufficient 
number  of  men  to  overpower  any  ordinary  band  of  In- 
dians, and  on  the  following  morning  set  out  for  the 
Panhandle  country.  Gen.  Sheridan  intended  to  set  out 
the  same  day,  but  as  he  said  he  had  neglected  his  cor- 
respondence, he  thought  it  better  to  take  another  day 
to  devote  to  that  matter  and  arrange  everything  of  that 
nature  before  leaving. 

On  the  second  day  afterwards  he  had  his  baggage 
and  other  effects  packed  ready  for  the  trip  and  went 
down  to  the  corral  to  bid  his  old  comrades  and  teamsters 
good-bye.  He  made  them  a  short  talk,  thanking  them  for 
their  faithful  services  they  had  always  so  readily  ren- 
dered. He  said  that  whilst  he  did  not  ever  expect  to 
return  to  that  post  again,  that  he  would  be  glad  to  meet 
any  of  them,  at  any  time  or  place.  After  shaking  hands 
with  all  the  boys  he  started  for  the  ambulance  which 
was  to  take  him  away.  When  he  met  Johnny  Murphy, 
his  tried  and  trusty  teamster  all  through  the  campaign, 
he  said,  "Well,  Johnnie,  I  am  going  to  leave  you.  Be 
a  good  boy,  and  if  you  should  ever  come  to  Washington, 
call  on  me.  I  shall  always  be  glad  to  meet  you."  He 
shook  hands  with  him  and  when  he  had  gone  a  short 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  287 

distance,  he  turned  and  shouted  back,  ''Now,  Johnnie, 
do  not  fail  to  call  on  me.'*  At  his  departure  there 
could  be  seen  on  the  cheeks  of  more  than  one  of  those 
old  battle-scarred  veterans,  a  glistening  tear,  the  true 
token  of  deep-seated  regret.  It  was  a  sorrowful  parting 
as  these  men  had  followed  him  through  the  din  of 
battle  for  four  years  during  the  rebellion  and  through 
the  Indian  campaigns  and  had  come  to  look  upon  him 
as  their  dearest  friend  for  whom  it  was  a  pleasure  to 
shed  their  blood  in  the  performance  of  duty.  But  such 
was  life  in  the  west.  When  he  had  gone,  each  turned 
to  his  duty  and  tried  to  forget  his  sorrow.  It  was  such 
little  traits  as  this  that  made  Sheridan  loved  by  his 
own  men,  revered  by  his  friends,  and  admired  and  re- 
spected by  his  enemies. 

The  General  had  hoped  to  be  able  to  reach  Wash- 
ington to  lead  his  old  command  in  the  Inaugural  parade 
on  March  4th,  but  such  was  not  to  be,  as  his  duties  in 
the  Territory  delayed  him  too  long,  as  it  was  now  March 
2nd.  He  set  out  as  soon  as  it  was  possible  for  him  to 
leave  his  command.  If  there  was  any  bad  weather,  it 
seemed  to  be  his  luck  to  be  out  in  it.  It  steeted  and 
as  scout  and  guide  to  go  and  get  them.  I  promised  the 
rained  all  during  the  journey  to  Bluff  Creek  and  con- 
tinued to  do  the  same  all  the  way  to  Dodge  City. 

Gen.  Custer,  a  very  energetic  man  and  strict  dis- 
ciplinarian, too  strict  in  fact  to  always  retain  the  respect 
of  his  men,  kept  everybody  and  everything  on  the  move. 
The  snow  was  now  fast  disappearing  from  the  Territory, 
but  the  mud  and  slush  caused  by  the  thawing  snow, 
made  travelling  a  slavish  task.  Each  day  was  a  repeti- 
tion of  the  preceding  one  and  such  it  continued  to  be 
until  they  reached  the  Panhandle  country  where  they 
found  m,ore  snow  and  less  protection  from  the  winds. 
They  still  advanced  keeping  the  scouts  well  to  the  fore 
to  escape  any  chance  of  being  taken  by  surprise.  Each 
day  brought  the  same  routine  of  duties  and  the  sanw 
results  until  it  became  monotonous,  so  much  so  that  the 


288  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

boys  said  that  they  would  like  to  have  a  little  fight 
just  for  a  change  and  to  liven  things  up  a  little.  On 
and  on  they  went  across  the  dreary  desolate  plain,  with 
not  even  a  buffalo  to  be  seen  as  they  had  been  driven 
from  the  flats  by  the  severe  storms  that  swept  that  part 
of  the  country  prior  to  the  trip.  A  gray  wolf  might 
be  seen  occasionally,  or  perhaps  an  antelope,  but  that 
was  about  all  as  the  wild  horses  or  mustangs  had  sought 
sirelter  in  the  canyons  or  brakes.  Desolation  reigned 
supreme  and  were  it  not  for  the  company  they  found  in 
each  other  they  wouldn't  have  been  able  to  endure  the 
loneliness  of  the  place.  Duty  urged  them  on,  and  for- 
ward they  went  well  out  on  the  Staked  Plains.  One  day 
the  scouts  returned  with  the  information  that  they  had 
discovered  an  Indian  village.  Such  news  was  music  to 
their  ears  and  each  and  all  began  to  prepare  for  the 
impending  conflict.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  those  In- 
dians were  aware  of  the  approach  of  the  scouts  and 
fully  realized  their  danger.  The  scouts  had  scarcely 
returned  to  camp  when  Ouster  saw  through  his  field- 
glasses  a  lively  movement  among  the  Indians.  He  knew 
that  he  had  sufficient  force  to  crush  them,  but  hesitated 
to  do  so  as  he  had  learned  that  they  held  two  white 
women  as  captives,  and  thought  it  best  to  parley  with 
them,  for  if  he  attacked  them  they  might  repeat  the 
act  of  cruelty  and  cold-blooded  murder  that  was  per- 
petrated by  Satanta  on  the  Washita  rather  than  deliver 
her  up  to  her  rescuers.  They  did  not  have  to  wait,  for 
it  was  a  short  time  until  the  white  flag  which  the  Indian 
alway's  kept  within  easy  reach,  was  brought  forth.  When 
well  out  from  the  village  and  not  far  distant  from  the 
train,  the  general  and  his  staff  with  an  interpreter  went 
out  to  meet  them.  It  did  not  take  long  to  arrange  the 
preliminaries  as  they  were  anxious  to  surrender,  or  more 
so,  than  he  was  to  capture  them.  Whilst  the  negotiations 
were  being  conducted  for  their  surrender  and  return  to 
Camp  Supply,  Chief  Tall  Bull  made  his  escape  with  a  few 
followers  and  was  not  heard  of  until  a  year  later  when 


OE  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  289 

the  report  was  made  that  General  Parr  had  made  a  final 
settlement  with  him  and  sent  him  "where  the  wicked 
cease  from  troubling"  and  "  the  weary  are  at  rest," 
up  on  the  Republican  river  in  Colorado. 

About  the  first  request  made  by  these  Indians  was 
for  chuckaway  as  they  were  almost  famished  for  want 
of  something  to  eat.  Ouster  readily  acceded  to  their 
demand  and  gave  them  a  liberal  supply  of  rations.  Then 
they  made  ready  to  move.  They  had  no  pianos,  sewing 
machines,  or  bric-a-brac  to  pack  and  crate,  but  they 
had  a  good  quantity  of  buffalo  robes,  blankets,  tanned 
buckskin,  pots,  skillets,  and  other  belongings  of  an  In- 
dian camp  and  it  took  some  time  to  get  them  in  readiness 
for  transportation.  To  a  person  who  has  never  witnessed 
such  a  thing,  it  is  very  interesting.  The  teepees  had  to 
be  taken  down  and  put  in  shape  to  be  packed  on  ponies. 
In  fact,  everything  had  to  be  packed  on  ponies  as  a 
wagon  was  an  unknown  thing  to  them.  They  had  a 
substitute  for  the  wagon  which  they  made  from  a  green 
cow  hide.  This  while  soft  and  pliable  they  fastened  by 
each  corner  to  a  post  and  weighted  down  the  center  until 
it  assumed  the  form  of  a  large  dish.  When  it  became 
dry  and  hard,  they  attached  it  to  two  long  teepee  poles 
fastened  one  on  each  side  of  a  pony.  Into  the  hide  they 
then  put  anything  they  wished  to  transport  and  turned 
the  pony  loose  with  the  rest  of  the  herd.  I  have  seen 
them  place  papooses  in  this  rude  vehicle  and  the  old 
pony  wandered  at  will  over  the  prairie.  The  teepee 
poles  were  made  of  cedar  and  were  very  light.  Some- 
times as  many  as  a  dozen  poles  would  be  fastened  to 
a  pony  with  other  luggage  fastened  on  his  back.  The 
young  babies,  or  small  paposses,  were  straped  to  the 
squaws  shoulders  where  she  usually  carried  it  in  all  kinds 
of  weather.  The  older  children  climbed  on  the  back  of 
a  pony,  as  that  is  about  the  first  thing  they  learned, 
and  were  ready  for  any  kind  of  a  journey.  The  Indian 
ponies  are  usually  very  docile  as  they"  are  broken  to 
handle  from  colthood.  It  is  a  very  rare  thing  to  see 


290  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

one  of  them  bucking  or  running  away,  and  consequently 
we  seldom  hear  of  an  accident  to  an  Indian  caused  by 
a  vicious  horse. 

When  everything  was  in  readiness,  the  general  gave 
orders  to  set  out  and  off  they  started  on  their  return 
trip  to  Camp  Supply.  Their  progress  was  necessarily 
very  slow  owing  to  the  starved  condition  of  their  ponies, 
but  Ouster  urged  them  on  to  the  limit  of  their  endurance 
as  he  had  now  a  great  many  new  boarders  on  hand  and 
he  feared  that  he  might  run  short  of  supplies.  Each  day 
of  the  journey  was  like  the  other.  One  thing  was  fa- 
vorable, the  weather  was  warmer  and  the  ground  was  not 
so  soft  and  muddy  as  on  their  advance  into  that  country. 
One  day  one  of  the  soldiers  shot  a  buffalo  and  he  and 
his  comrades  cut  off  the  hump  and  one  hind  quarter  to 
divide  among  his  companions.  He  told  the  Indians  to 
help  themselves  to  the  rest.  The  general  called  a  halt 
to  give  the  Indians  a  chance  to  attend  to  the  remnant  of 
the  buffalo  and  put  the  cook  to  work  preparing  some 
of  the  hump  for  himself.  They  also  fed  the  stock  some 
grain  and  by  the  tim,e  the  General  finished  his  slice  of 
hump  there  was  not  enough  of  that  buffalo  left  to  bait 
a  mouse  trap.  There  was  nothing  left  but  the  horns, 
'hooves,  and  bones.  Even  the  entrails  did  not  escape 
their  ravenous  appetite.  Nevertheless,  the  buffalo  saved 
the  General's  commissary  the  necessity  of  providing  one 
good  meal  and  that  was  quite  a  consideration  at  that 
particular  time,  as  provisions  were  beginning  to  get  low. 
Each  day  brought  its  quota  of  petty  annoyances.  Some- 
times a  wagon  would  bog  down  in  the  creek,  or  a  whiffle- 
tree  would  break  or  a  mule  balk.  But  that  is  all  the 
part  of  a  journey.  On  they  went  until  they  came  to 
the  South  Canadian  river  where  they  expected  to  meet 
the  greatest  difficulty  of  their  trip,  but  to  the  surprise 
of  all  parties,  the  water  was  very  low  and  they  succeeded 
in  crossing  it  with  much  less  trouble  than  they  had  to 
contend  with  in  crossing  some  of  the  smaller  streams. 
The  quicksand  was  their  greatest  obstacle  to  be  en- 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  291 

countered  in  the  way.  The  Indian  ponies,  as  I  have  said, 
being  very  poor  and  weak,  one  of  them  would  frequently 
fall  and  flounder  around  in  the  quicksand  throwing  his 
burden,  a  squaw  and  her  papoose.  There  they  struggled 
with  the  treacherous  sands  until  a  soldier  equal  to  the 
emergency  would  gallantly  go  to  their  rescue  and  bring 
them  back  to  safety  on  the  opposite  bank.  The  bucks 
faced  the  ordeal  very  reluctantly,  but  seeing  that  it 
was  a  case  of  the  l devil  take  the  hindmost'  they  removed 
their  moccasins,  blankets,  and  in  many  cases  reduced 
themselves  to  a  state  of  primitive  simplicity,  and  made 
their  way  across  as  best  they  could.  Much  to  the  relief 
of  the  commanding  officer  the  last  of  them,  after  a  good 
deal  of  struggling  and  snorting,  landed  on  the  north 
bank  of  the  treacherous  stream  in  safety.  The  general 
in  his  eagerness  to  proceed,  did  not  wait  for  them  to 
arrange  their  toilets,  but  pushed  on  through  the  brakes 
and  canyons  until  he  reached  the  flats  where  he  went 
into  camp.  He  was  eager  to  reach  his  destination  to 
unload  his  responsibility  and  one  dannot  blame  (him 
for  that  feeling  after  performing  such  an  arduous  task. 
It  took  three  more  days  to  reach  Camp  Supply  where 
Gen.  Ouster  turned  over  his  charge  to  the  Indian  De- 
partment and  in  due  course  of  time  discharged  the  regi- 
ment that  had  rendered  such  valuable  service.  During 
that  expedition  Ouster  had  brought  back  those  renegades 
and  turned  them  over  to  the  Department  without  firing 
a  gun  except  at  game  on  the  way. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

Civilizing  the  Indian;  A  Period  of  Unrest;  An  Outbreak; 
Murder  of  a  Freighter.  . 

At  this  time  the  Quakers  were  largely  in  control 
of  the  Indian  Department  and  were  indorsed  in  their 
views  by  Pres.  U.  S.  Grant.  They  believed  the  Indian 
could  be  civilized  and  kefpt  under  control  by  moral 
suasion  by  the  erection  of  school  houses  for  his  child- 
ren, and  by  imparting  a  knowledge  of  the  proper  system 
of  agriculture.  Under  their  influence,  rations  were  issued 
and  blankets  distributed  among  them.  They  were  also 
given  wagons,  plows,  and  other  farm  implements  which 
they  knew  nothing  about.  They  would  not  ride  on  a 
spring  seat,  nor  sit  in  a  wagon  box,  but  for  some  reason 
best  known  to  themselves,  they  would  remove  the  box 
and  place  teepee  poles  on  the  wagon  bolsters  and  all 
climb  in  when  they  were  ready  for  a  trip.  The  plows 
and  other  implements  which  were  sent  out  among  them 
to  encourage  them  to  farm,  I  have  seen  suspended  from, 
trees.  I  cannot  understand  why  they  did  so  unless  it 
was  to  show  contempt  for  the  white  man's  way.  It  is 
true,  some  of  them  raised  small  patches  of  corn,  which 
with  the  rations  issued  by  the  Agency  and  the  game  they 
killed,  kept  the  wolf  from  the  door,  or  rather  the  flaps 
of  their  teepees.  Occasionally  a  small  band  of  them 
would  get  a  permit  from  the  Fort  Cammander  to  go  on 
a  hunt,  with  the  understanding  that  they  were  to  return 
at  a  stipulated  tim,e  and  behave  themselves  during  their 
absence  and  not  commit  any  depredations.  All  this  they 
complied  with.  I  have  met  these  hunting  parties  up  in 
No  Man's  Land  and  other  places  and  never  heard  of 
their  perpetrating  -any'  mischief  on  persons  or  stock 
whilst  out  under  a  permit. 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  293 

The  squaws,  when  not  busy  in  the  corn  patch  or 
in  their  little  garden,  were  engaged  in  making  ornaments 
or  other  fancy  needlework  at  which  they  were  experts. 
These  articles  they  afterwards  sold  to  tourists  from  the 
East,  at  the  Agency,  as  souvenirs  of  their  trip  among 
the  Indians.  Some  of  this  kind  of  work  had  a  real  intrin- 
sic value  for  above  the  ornamental  part  of  it.  I  knew  one 
chief's  daughter  who  had  a  blanket  ornamented  with 
elk's  teeth  and  shells,  that  was  valued  at  $1500.  She 
was  taken  ill  and  died,  and  the  blanket  which  she  loved 
to  wear  at  festivals  was  used  as  a  shroud.  A  few  days 
afterwards,  some  person  passing  by  noticed  that  the 
grave  had  been  disturbed.  He  notified  her  people  and  an 
investigation  being  made,  they  found  that  some  white 
man  or  men  had  been  there  and  had  stolen  the  blanket 
or  robe  in  which  she  was  wrapped.  If  they  were  ever 
captured,  I  am  not  aware  of  it.  I  said  that  white  men 
did  it,  because  a  negro  is  too  superstitious  to  do  it,  and 
1  do  not  believe  there  is  an  Indian  in  the  Territory  who 
would  stoop  to  such  a  goulish  act;  so  I  shall  give  some 
white  animal  the  credit  for  the  deed. 

The  government  also  built  large  corrals  or  cowpens 
where  the  cattle  were  issued  to  the  Indians.  On  the  size 
of  the  family  depended  the  size  of  the  cow  or  steer  issued. 
The  Agent  had  the  name  of  'each  family  and  the  number 
of  persons  comprising  it.  When  a  steer  was  selected  a 
cowpuncher  rode  among  the  herd  and  cut  out  the  desired 
animal  and  rushed  him  through  the  gate  of  the  corral 
where  the  Indians  were  waiting  with  bows  and  arrows 
to  kill  him.  They  seldom  killed  him  at  the  first  or 
second  shot.  More  frequently  a  dozen  shots  were  re- 
quired before  they  struck  a  vital  spot.  When  the  beast 
fell,  the  squaws,  papooses  and  dogs  came  along  to  do  th^e 
skinning  and  oversee  the  division  of  the  meat.  Each 
one  came  in  for  a  share.  After  the  killing,  the  lordly 
old  buck  would  seek  out  the  shelter  of  som,e  tree  or  other 
shady  place  to  rest  his  manly  form  until  the  animal  was 
dressed  and  ready  for  consumption;  then  he  would  re- 


294  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

turn  and  fill  his  capacious  stomach  with  wohaw.  The 
Government  shortly  changed  the  arrow  shooting  feat  as 
it  considered  that  such  a  practice  had  no  civilizing  in- 
fluence on  the  Indian  and,  besides,  it  wanted  them  to 
forget  their  old  habits  as  soon  as  possible.  Thereafter, 
when  on  issuing  day  a  beef  was  selected,  a  man  was 
there  to  shoot  it  in  the  corral  and  the  Indian  entered 
with  his  ponies  to  drag  away  the  carcass  to  dress  it 
outside. 

After  some  time  the  Department  decided  to  remove 
a  large  number  of  the  Indians  at  Camp  Supply  to  the 
Darlington  Agency  which  is  located  about  140  miles 
south-east  of  Supply  on  the  north  bank  of  the  North 
Canadian  river,  and  about  two  miles  from  Port  Reno. 
Here  they  settled  down  submissively  and  appeared  to  be 
content  with  their  existing  condition.  At  times  there 
were  some  small  complaints  about  the  agent,  which  upon 
investigation  proved  oftentimes  to  be  correct.  On  the 
other  hand  there  was  a  disturbing  element.  This  thing 
is  not  common  to  the  Indian  alone,  but  may  be  found 
among  civilized  folks  who  are  not  at  peace  with  them- 
selves or  the  world  at  large.  Taking  everything  into 
consideration,  they  were  doing  about  as  well  as  could 
be  expected  under  the  circumstances. 

The  other  band  of  Chyennes  who  had  located  on 
Pond  Creek,  were  also  brought  down  to  the  Darlington 
Agency.  This  left  the  Cherokee  Strip  comparitively  de- 
serted, but  it  did  not  remain  so  long  as  the  cowmen 
entered  there  and  built  ranches  and  stocked  them  with 
cattle  under  leases  from  the  Indians.  There  were  the 
Turkey  Track,  the  Box  T.  R-S,  Bull  Foot  and  other 
ranches  too  numerous  to  mention,  all  located  in  the 
Cherokee  Strip. 

Everything  moved  along  smoothly  with  but  little 
trouble  from,  the  Indians  until  the  year  1874,  when  the 
spirit  of  unrest  seized  them  again  and  extended  to  all 
the  Indians  over  the  western  plains.  Some  had  one 
grievance  and  some  had  another.  They*  began  making 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  295 

medicine,  which  to  a  m,an  acquainted  with  the  Indians 
meant  trouble  sooner  or  later.  At  that  time,  supplies 
to  Anadarko,  Ft?.  Reno,  and  the  Darlington  Agency  were 
freighted  from,  Wichita,  Kansas,  and  distributed  to  the 
different  bands  at  these  places.  As  there  were  no  rail- 
roads in  this  country,  it  gave  employment  to  hundreds 
of  men  and  teams  on  the  trails  to  enable  them  to  kee^p 
up  the  supplies.  The  freighting  business  was  a  great 
boon  to  the  early  settlers  of  Kansas  as  the  grasshoppers 
had  destroyed  everything  in  the  form  of  vegetation  and 
the  settlers  who  had  teams  went  to  Wichita  and  engaged 
in  freighting  for  the  government.  Even  the  white  folks 
at  this  time  were  reduced  to  a  great  state  of  privation 
and  had  to  depend  on  the  bounty  of  the  outside  world. 
The  more  fortunate  in  the  older  states  responded  to  their 
appeal  and  tided  them  over  their  distress  until  pros- 
perity placed  them  beyond  the  reach  of  want. 

About  this  time  small  bands  of  discontented  Chey- 
ennes  began  prowling  around  over  the  country  and 
occasionally  went  beyond  the  limit  allowed  them  by  the 
Agent,  and  then  returned  to  draw  their  rations  with 
the  other  Indians  at  the  Agency.  They  continued  to 
do  this  for  some  time  and  finally  began  to  make  depre- 
dations on  stock  or  anything  else  that  came  within  their 
reach.  The  Agent  prone  to  avoid  trouble  with  them, 
treated  them  leniently,  but  the  more  leniency  he  showed, 
the  bolder  they  became  until  a  small  band  under  the 
leadership  of  Tall  Meat,  a  petty  chief,  went  north  as 
far  as  Buffalo  Springs  on  the  south  line  of  the  Cherokee 
Strip.  There  they  could  see  the  freight  wagons  in  the 
distance  laden  with  government  supplies/  heading  for 
Anadarko,  and  came  to  the  immediate  decision  of  raiding 
the  train.  They  withdrew  into  a  canyon  on  the  side  of 
the  trail  so  as  to  be  out  of  sight  when  the  train  arrived, 
They  intended  to  murder  the  teamsters  and  plunder  their 
goods  of  whatever  they  wanted  and  then  make  their 
escape.  A  man  named  Patrick  Hennessey  was  driving 
the  lead  wagon  of  one  of  the  trains.  He  was  trudging 


296  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

along  on  foot  beside  his  team  without  the  slightest  sus- 
picion of  any  danger.  As  soon  as  he  had  passed  where 
they  were  hiding  they  shot  him  in  the  back.  When  the 
shooting  took  place  the  team  stampeded  and  dragged 
Hennessey  in  his  dying  condition  along  the  ground.  The 
wagon  upset  and  a  bag  of  grain  fell  across  Hennessey's 
lower  limbs  and  there  he  lay  dead.  In  the  meantime 
the  drivers  of  the  other  wagons  together  with  a  passenger 
who  was  working  his  wTay  down  the  country,  abandoned 
their  teams  and  wagons  and  fled.  Next  day  the  Indian 
Agent  with  an  escort  happened  to  pass  that  way  and 
discovered  the  work  of  destruction  of  the  day  previous. 
They  found  the  remnants  of  the  wagon  which  had  been 
set  on  fire.  Some  of  the  oats  which  comprised  part  of 
the  load  were  still  burning,  and  the  sack  that  had  fallen 
across  poor  Hennessey's  limbs  in  burning  had  charred 
his  legs  to  a  crisp.  The  agent,  John  D.  Miles,  and  his 
escort,  Billy  Mulally,  dug  a  kind  of  temporary  grave  to 
protect  the  remains  from  the  coyotes  and  the  buzzards 
and  marked  the  place  with  a  few  rocks.  Every  freighter 
that  passed  that  way  felt  it  his  duty  to  see  that  the  grave 
was  kept  in  as  good  condition  as  circumstances  would 
permit.  The  resting  place  of  Pat  Hennessey  became  a 
landmark  for  all  travellers  in  that  section  until  the  Rock 
Island  railroad  was  built,  when  the  remains  were  removed 
to  their  present  place  of  rest.  The  city  of  Hennessey,  one 
of  the  most  prosperous  little  cities  in  the  state  is  named 
in  his  honor.  I  have  since  been  told  that  the  women  of 
Hennessey  have  erected  a  monument  with  suitable  in- 
scription at  his  grave.  The  other  teamsters  who  fled 
when  the  first  shot  was  fired  were  overtaken  and  killed 
at  some  distance  from  where  Hennessey  fell. 

This  little  band  of  highwaym;en  could  not  expect 
to  be  allowed  to  pursue  their  murderous  way  with  im- 
punity. They  had  no  following,  as  such  acts  would  be 
condemned  by  the  best  Indians  of  their  tribe,  and  again 
they  were  surrounded  by  forts.  Supply  on  the  north, 
Elliot  on  the  west,  Sill  on  the  south,  and  Reno  at  home. 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  297 

A  small  band  of  white  men  might  escape  under  such 
conditions  as  it  would  be  possible  for  them  to  avoid 
detection,  but  not  for  Indians  of  the  kind,  as  their  ap- 
proach would  be  a  signal  to  begin  shooting.  It  was  a 
very  short  time  until  they  were  captured '  and  brought 
into  the  agency.  Several  others  were  rounded  up  at  the 
same  time.  Then  an  official  investigation  was  made  and 
after  a  great  deal  of  red  tape  ceremonies  and  other  pre- 
liminaries, it  was  thought  best  for  the  interests  of  the 
Indians,  as  well  as  for  the  safety  of  the  white  settlers, 
to  transport  them  to  the  Dry  Tortugas.  I  have  never 
visited  that  locality,  but  from  what  I  have  learned  from 
persons  who  did,  it  was  not  a  very  desirable  place  to 
locate  a  people  who  might  expect  any  great  degree  of 
personal  comfort.  I  had  been  told  by  a  man  who  spent 
some  time  there,  that  if  the  government  sent  those  folks 
there  to  confine  and  punish  them,  it  had  struck  the 
exact  spot  where  everything  had  a  tendency  to  add  to 
human  misery,  and  he  believed  it  was  located  so  close 
to  the  region  of  the  lost  that  he  could  hear  old  Cerberus 
barking  across  the  dead  line. 

To  show  the  reader  a  fine  sense  of  filial  affection 
and  brotherly  attachment  is  not  a  stranger  to  the  savage 
breast,  I  must  mention  a  little  circumstance  that  occurred. 
When  all  that  were  to  be  sent  off  were  standing  around 
and  their  friends  were  giving  their  farewell  greetings, 
one  young  Indian  stepped  forward  and  asked  the  officer 
in  command  if  he  were  going  to  take  his  brother  away 
where  maybe  so  he  not  come  back  some  time.  The 
officer  replied  that  such  was  the  present  intention,  but 
modified  his  remark  by  saying  that  at  some  time  in  the 
future  they  might  regain  their  liberty  if  they  were  good 
Indians.  The  young  Indian  hesitated  a  moment  and  then 
said,  ""Well,  me  go  too.  Me  not  want  for  stay  here 
and  my  brother  he  take  away  some  place  I  not  know  and 
maybe  so  he  not  come  back  at  all  sometime.  Me  go, 
too.'"'  The  commanding  officer  granted  his  request  and 
gave  him,  transportation  along  with  his  brother  to  the 


298  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

Dry  Tortugas,  situated  175  miles  west  of  Key  West  in  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico. 

When  the  Indians  were  removed,  in  a  short  time 
everything  dropped  back;  injto  peaceful}  channels  ,and 
ran  along  in  a  comparatively  smoothe  fashion  until  Chief 
Dull  Knife  became  uneasy  and  wanted  to  return  to  the 
Black  Hill  country.  His  outbreak  will  form  the  sub- 
ject of  another  chapter. 

Since  writing  the  above  I  have  had  occasion  to 
visit  one  of  the  public  schools  of  El  Reno,  where  I 
found  a  history  of  Oklahoma  written  by  Joseph  B.  Tho- 
buirn,  formjer  secretary  ;of*  agriculture,  and  Isalac  M. 
Holcomb,  former  superintendent  of  Oklahoma  City 
schools.  On  page  133  I  found  a  brief  history  of  the 
tragic  death  of  Pat.  Hennessey  on  July  3rd,  1874,  and 
what  a  brave  defense  he  made  against  such  odds  and 
when  captured  was  bound  to  a  wagon  wheel  and  burnv^J 
alive.  Also,  there  was  a  foot-note  stating  that  it  was 
reported  and  generally  believed  that  it  was  the  deed 
of  white  men  disguised  as  Indians,  in  order  to  have  it 
charged  up  to  the  Indians.  Such  was  not  the  case  and 
the  above  statement  is  misleading  and  incorrect,  and  for 
the  benefit  of  the  school  children  of  the  State  of  Okla- 
homa, as  well  as  in  justice  to  the  Indian  I  shall  set 
down  the  correct  statement  of  the  case. 

My  authority  for  my  version  of  the  affair  are  the 
following  gentlemen:  John  Murphy  of  El  Reno,  and  H. 
A.  Todd  of  Calumet,  brother-in-law  of  Billy  Mulally  who 
assisted  John  D.  Miles,  Indian  agent  at  Darlington,  to 
bury  Pat.  Hennessey,  while  on  their  way  to  Wichita, 
Kansas.  Billy  Mulally  is  still  living  at  Calumet  and  can 
be  consulted  in  regard  to  the  matter.  Their  version  of  the 
affair  is  as  follows: 

Patrick  Hennessey  in  the  lead  of  a  wagon  train 
was  going  from  Wichita,  Kansas,  to  Anadarko,  I.  T. 
loaded  with  grain  and  other  supplies  for  the  govern- 
ment. He  had  been  warned  at  Buffalo  Springs  ranch, 
kept  by  a  man  named  Mosher,  that  the  Cheyenne  Indians 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  299 

were  on  the  war-path,  and  was  advised  to  go  no  farther. 
He  persisted  in  going  and  in  like  manner  did  the  two 
other  teams  of  the  train.  With  them  was  a  passenger 
who  was  working  his  way  with  them.  When  not  far 
from  where  Hennessey,  Okla.  is  now  located,  a  band 
of  Cheyenne  Indians,  under  the  leadership  of  Bear  Shield 
and  Tall  Meat,  came  out  of  a  draw  and  shot  Hennessey 
in  the  back.  The  commotion  caused  by  them  stampeded 
the  mules  Hennessey  was  driving.  He  in  his  dying  con- 
dition hung  on  to  the  lines  and  was  dragged  along  the 
ground,  as  he  had  been  walking  alongside  the  wagon. 
Presently  the  wagon  upset  and  a  sack  of  oats  fell  across 
Hennessey's  prostrate  form  and  pinned  him  to  the 
ground.  He  was  dead.  The  other  drivers  with  their 
passenger  leaped  from  their  wagons  and  ran  north-east 
in  the  direction  of  Skeleton  Creek  where  they  were  fol- 
lowed by  the  Chyennes  and  killed,  and  were  afterwards 
buried  by  the  cowboys  and  Mosher.  This  accounts  for 
their  not  being  buried  with  Hennessey.  The  burning  of 
Hennessey  cannot  be  attributed  to  the  Cheyennes  as  the 
Osages  happened  along  about  this  time  and  the  Chey- 
ennes fled.  The  Osages  after  plundering  the  wagons  of 
all  they  wanted,  set  fire  to  what  they  could  not  carry 
away.  The  following  forenoon,  John  D.  Miles,  Indian 
Agent  at  Darlington,  accompanied  by  Billy  Mulally,  a 
cowman  on  his  way  to  Kansas,  came  across  the  wreckage. 
The  grain  was  still  burning  and  Pat  Hennessey's  body 
lay  partly  under  a  sack  of  grain  which  was  still  smoul- 
dering, and  not  tied  to  the  Wagon  wheel  as  the  history 
has  it.  From  there  they  removed  him  and  buried  him 
in  a  temporary  grave.  From  this  resting  place  he  was 
afterwards  removed  to  what  is  now  called  Hennessey, 
Okla.,  where  there  stands  a  splendid  monument  erected 
to  his  memory  by  the  women  of  Oklahoma. 

Note — This    correction    ia  only   one    of   many    that 
might  be  made  in  our  present  day  history  which  pretend 


300  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

to  set  forth  a  correct  idea  of  the  early  days  of  our 
state.  For  any  further  reference  to  such  matters,  living 
witnesses  are  at  hand  to  give  a  correct  version  of  many 
erroneous  statements  that  have  crept  into  our  text  books 
and  other  writings. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 
A  Decade  of  Warfare;  Ousters  Massacre;  Sheridan,  etc. 

For  several  years,  I  might  say  the  whole  decade  from 
1870  to  1880,  the  Indians  occupied  the  attention  of  the 
public.  In  the  Northwest  they  were  very  active.  The 
Utes,  Apaches,  Cheyennes,  and  the  Sioux  were  almost 
continuously  on  the  warpath,  and  their  activities  were 
so  widespread  and  far-  reaching  that,  at  tinges,  they 
almost  blocked  the  progress  of  the  wheels  of  commence, 
and  made  trade  and  travel  a  very  dangerous  proceeding. 
The  movement  on  the  part  of  the  Indian  developed  a 
corresponding  activity  on  the  part  of  the  military  de- 
partment. Gen.  P.  H.  Sheridan,  Gen.  Crook,  Gen.  Cus- 
ter,  and  Gen.  Nelson  A.  Miles  and  many  other  men 
high  up  in  military  affairs  devoted  their  time  and 
attention  to  the  pressing  condition  of  affairs  and  took 
up  their  position  in  localities  where  they  would  be  able 
to  suppress  the  movements  of  the  Indians  and  bring 
about  a  peaceable  solution  of  their  difficulties. 

The  various  bands  of  Indians  adopted  practically  the 
same  mode  of  procedure  in  their  warlike  movements. 
Each  spring  and  summer,  when  there  was  plenty  of  green 
grass  and  abundance  of  water,  usually  found  them  open- 
ing up  a  new  campaign  against  the  encroachments  of  the 
white  population.  It  was  very  galling  for  them  to  stand  by 
and  see  the  source  of  their  supplies,  the  buffalo,  exter- 
minated without  making  any  contrary  movement.  In 
fact,  they  did  not  propose  to  do  so,  but  set  out  to  'exter- 
minate the  hunters  who  were  intent  on  making  a  desert  of 
the  plains  that  teemed  with  millions  of  their  favorite 
game.  Their  efforts  were  sometimes  crowned  with  suc- 
cess, and  frequently  they  encountered  disaster.  In  spite 
of  the  reverses  they  suffered,  as  at  the  Chivington  mas- 


302  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

sacre  on  Sand  Creek,  Colorado,  they  did  not  abandon 
their  efforts  to  retain  their  rights  to  the  land  they  had 
so  long  retained  as  their  lawful  hunting  ground.  The 
fact  that  he  had  practically  no  further  means  of  gaining 
a  livelihood,  made  them,  all  the  more  determined  to 
fight  to  the  finish  with  those  whom  they  considered 
usurpers  of  their  ancestral  kingdom. 

To  add  to  his  difficulties  in  the  way  of  the  en- 
croachments of  the  whites,  an  unexpected  circumstances 
arose  that  made  conditions  much  more  difficult  to  bear. 
Gold  had  been  discovered  in  the  Black  Hills.  There  was 
a  rush  made  upon  the  gold-bearing  district,  which  stirred 
the  Indians  to  greater  excitement.  Immigrant  tjrains 
from  Missouri,  Kansas,  Nebraska,  and  as  far  east  as 
Ohio  and  Michigan,  began  to  wind  their  long  sinuous 
way  across  the  plains  in  the  direction  of  the  new  gold 
fields.  They  were  not  entirely  unacquainted  with  the 
excited  condition  of  the  territory  through  which  they 
were  compelled  to  travel,  and  consequently  made  prepa- 
rations to  meet  the  difficulties  and  dangers  of  the  way. 
They  were  well  aware  that  the  Indians  were  on  the  war- 
path and  ready  to  give  them  a  warm  reception  on  their 
invasion  on  the  Indians'  domain.  To  meet  the  perils  of 
such  a  journey  as  they  were  compelled  to  make,  each 
wagon  train  consisting  of  numerous  outfits,  was  under 
the  guidance  of  some  experienced  plainsman.  He  showed 
them  the  proper  manner  of  procedure  in  the  method  of 
self-defense  in  case  they  were  subjected  to  an  attack 
from  the  maurauding  bands  of  red-men  on  the  way.  It 
was  well,  as  far  as  their  own  safety  was  concerned,  that 
they  learned  how  to  corral  their  wagons  and  stock  in 
the  time  of  danger,  as  more  than  one  wagon  train  was 
attacked  and  completely  destroyed  and  the  members  of  the 
party  massacred  on  their  way  across  the  plains.  In  justice 
to  the  Indians,  I  wish  to  remark  that  all  the  massacres 
and  plunclerings  of  the  early  days  were  not  wrought  by 
the  Indians.  It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  the  Mormans  in 
Utah  played  a  part  in  such  inhuman  affairs,  as  is  evi- 


OR  THE  DULL  KNJFE  RAID  303 

denced  by  the  actions  of  John  D.  Lee  and  his  followers, 
disguised  as  Indians,  when  they  perpetrated  the  Moun- 
tain Meadow  massacre  To  leave  the  impression  that  it 
was  the  work  of  the  tribesmen  they  scalped  their  victims, 
ran  off  their  stock,  and  burned  their  wagons.  There  are 
several  other  instances  that  might  be  mentioned,  wherein 
the  whiteman  in  the  guise  of  the  Indian,  performed  deeds 
of  deviltry  and  endeavored  to  cast  the  blame  upon  the 
redman.  While  charging  the  Indian  with  his  crimes,  let 
us  not  forget  to  give  him  credit  for  his  virtues  also,  or 
as  Theodore  Roosevelt  would  say,  "let  us  give  him  a 
square  deal." 

Time  passed  on,  each  year  bringing  its  quota  of 
trouble  and  disaster,  without  any  indication  or  improve- 
ment in  the  general  condition  of  affairs.  All  the  frontier 
posts  were  supplied  with  soldiers  who  seemed  anxious 
for  something  to  turn  up  to  relieve  the  monotony  of 
camp  life.  They  finally  had  their  wishes  fulfilled,  for 
in  the  spring  of  1876,  Sitting  Bull,  the  Napoleon  of  the 
Sioux  tribe,  succeeded  in  concentrating  his  whole  force 
in  the  valley  of  the  Little  Big  Horn.  No  opportunity 
was  more  desired  by  the  whites  for  putting  an  end  to 
the  activity  of  the  Indians.  Gen.  Ouster  lost  not  a  mo- 
ment in  taking  the  field  against  him.  His  past  successes 
in  fighting  the  savages  seemed  to  guarantee  him  victory 
in  his  present  undertaking.  In  his  impetuosity  he  set 
out  flushed  with  the  thought  of  the  success  that  was  to 
perch  upon  his  arms.  In  his  ardour  lay  his  crushing 
defeat.  Ouster  had  about  700  men-only  256  with  him  in 
actual  fight  where  he  fell,  every  man  killed  except 
Curley  the  Crow  scout  who  escaped.  Reno  and  Benteen 
were  already  held  in  check  on  the  hill  they  retreated 
to  when  attacked  before  Ouster  engaged  the  Indians. 
The  Indians  had  3600  braves  or  warriors.  Sitting  Bull 
was  the  Bismark  of  the  Sioux  and  Gall  the  Von  Molkte. 
Ouster  and  Terry  had  been  informed  by  Indian  agent 
at  Standing  Rock  that  only'  800  braves  were  to  be  en- 
gaged. Sitting  Bull  had  defeated  General  Crook  a  few 


304  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

days  before  he  encountered  Custer.  Sitting  Bull  fearing 
also  General  Gibbons  and  Crook  at  any  minute  to  re- 
inforce the  Seventh  Cavalry  hastened  to  make  his  escape 
to  Canada,  otherwise  he  would  have  annihilated  Reno 
and  the  balance  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry.  These  Indians 
in  1881  returned  to  the  United  States  and  I  helped  put 
them  on  steam,  boats  at  Fort  Buford  and  Fort  Keogh, 
or  Miles  City  now,  and  sent  them,  to  Standing  Rock 
agency,  Rain  in  the  Face's  band  being  at  Keogh. 
Sitting  Bull,  by  strategy,  succeeded  in  decoying  Gen- 
eral Custer,  with  his  entire  command,  into  a  posi- 
tion that  was  suicidal.  The  wily  Indian  chief,  with 
about  nine  thousand  warriors,  on  the  25th  of  June,  1876, 
attacked  him  and  annihilated  the  whole  command,  carry- 
ing off  all  Custer 's  munitions  of  war  as  trophies  of 
victory.  Acting  on  the  principle  that  "to  the  victor 
belong  the  spoils,"  Siting  Bull,  by  the  total  annihilation 
of  the  enemy  was  able  to  replenish  his  larder  at  the 
expense  of  Uncle  Sam.  It  was  a  veritable  windfall  for 
him,  as  the  supplies  of  food,  guns,  ammunition,  horses, 
blankets,  and  everything  that  was  needed  for  comfort 
and  safety,  were  very  much  in  demand  about  that  time, 
as  the  Indian's  resources  were  almost  at  the  vanishing 
point  at  the  time.  It  is  not  my  purpose  'here  to  offer 
any  explanation  of  Custer 's  failure,  but  it  was  commonly 
reported  that  General  Reno  had  been  expected  to  take 
part  in  the  engagement,  but  did  not  do  so.  Others  lay 
the  disaster  to  Custer 's  impetuosity,  not  waiting  for  his 
auxiliaries  to  arrive.  I  am  not  prepared  to  say  who  was 
to  blame  for  the  calamity. 

In  the  death  of  General  Custer,  the  country  lost  one 
of  the  bravest  men  that  ever  donned  the  uniform  of 
the  soldier.  He  had  his  faults  but  cowardice  was  not 
one  of  them.  He  was  true  to  his  country  and  his  flag 
and  his  fall  where  the  fight  was  thickest,  was  an  indi- 
cation of  his  military  character. 

I  thought  it  proper  to  write  this  short  sketch  in 
order  to  show  the  influence  it  exercised  on  succeeding 


OR  THE  DULL  KNJFE  RAID  305 

•events.  It  was  several  days  before  the  results  of  the 
day's  disaster  became  known  to  the  general  public.  There 
were  several  reasons  for  the  delay.  %  First,  those  who 
were  to  join  Ouster  in  his  attack  on  the  Indians  did  not 
arrive  for  some  time  after  the  battle  and  as  there  was 
not  a  living  soul  left  to  tell  the  tale  of  the  deeds  of 
heroism  performed  in  that  desperate  encounter,  nor  give 
any  inkling  as  to  the  whereabouts  of  the  dead  bodies 
of  the  slain,  it  was  more  by  chance  than  design  that 
their  location  was  discovered  as  soon  as  it  was.  Even 
to  those  who  came  upon  them  where  they  lay  stiff  and 
cold  in  death,  it  did  not  seem  possible  that  there  could 
be  such  a  complete  massacre  that  not  a  living  man  was 
left  to  relate  what  happened.  Again,  the  means  of 
communication  with  the  world  at  large  were  very  meagre. 
There  was  the  pony  express,  a  very  slow  method  at  its 
best.  However,  the  news  was  finally  forwarded  to  the 
country  at  large,  and  as  usual,  the  newspapers  went  into 
glaring  accounts  of  the  disaster,  calling  upon  imagination 
for  what  they  lacked  from  authorative  sources.  The 
whole  country1  was  aroused. 

When  the  other  Indian  tribes  had  learned  of  Sitting 
Bull's  successful  annihilation  of  the  hated  pale-face  com- 
mand, their  enthusiasm  knew  no  bounds.  They  began 
to  see  at  last  the  extermination  of  the  white  man.  No 
more  would  the  buffalo  hunter  deprive  them  of  their 
means  of  subsistance.  No  more  would  the  freighter  and 
the  settler  occupy  the  lands  that  belonged  to  the  Indian 
long  before  the  white  man  had  set  his  foot  on  American 
soil.  The  prophecy  of  the  Messiah  was  coming  true,  and 
they  were  ready  and  willing  to  have  a  share  in  hasten- 
ing the  day  of  their  deliverance  from  the  white  usurper. 
Naturally,  they  began  to  make  their  war  medicine  and 
prepare  themselves  to  aid  in  freeing  their  beloved  plains 
from  the  objectionable  intruder.  Herein,  they  reckoned 
without  Uncle  Sam.  N,o  sooner  had  the  news  of  Ous- 
ter's defeat  and  annihilation  been  brought  to  him,  than 
he  began  to  make  preparations  for  another  expedition 


306  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

against  them,  determined  to  wipe  out  the  stain  of  recent 
defeat.  The  purpose  of  the  new  expedition  was  prob- 
able more  comprehensive  than  the  former  efforts  of  a 
like  nature.  The  government  began  to  realize  that  it  was 
face  to  face  with  no  common  danger.  The  forts  were 
put  in  proper  condition  to  resist  any  attack  that  the 
Indian  might  contemplate  making  upon  them.  New  forts 
were  established  at  different  points  of  vantage  and  men 
enlisted  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  the  defense  up  to 
a  proper  footing,  as  well  as  to  afford  portection  for  the 
trade  and  commerce  of  that  disturbed  region. 

The  year  of  1877  was  but  a  repitition  of  the  pre- 
ceding y'ears  with  very  few  exceptions.  The  Indian  was 
becoming  accustomed  to  the  ways  of  the  white  man, 
especially  in  the  art  of  making  war.  Whenever  and 
wherever  possible  he  discarded  his  primitive  weapons, 
the  bow  and  arrow,  for  the  more  up-to-date  and  efficient 
firearms.  These  they  acquired,  sometimes  by  barter  and 
frequently  by  successful  engagements  in  battle,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  Ouster  massacre  where  they  obtained  suf- 
ficient munitions  of  war  to  make  them  feel  rather  bold 
in  their  dealings  with  the  boys  in  blue. 

One  thing  noticeable  about  this  time,  was  the  change 
in  the  method  of  conducting  warfare  by  the  organized 
forces  of  Uncle  Sam.  The  old  army  method  of  fighting 
was  improved  by  adopting  the  strategy  of  the  enemy 
while  fighting  on  his  native  heath.  Heretofore  they  had 
followed  the  tactics  of  civilized  warfare  acquired  by  'ex- 
perience in  the  years  of  the  Great  Rebellion,  but  they 
were  glad  to  adopt  the  latter  and  improved  method  of 
bringing  the  battle  to  the  Indians  in  the  manner  that  was 
more  conductive  to  personal  safety  and  at  the  same  time 
offered  opportunities  for  personal  initiative.  The  change 
seemed  to  be  more  agreeable  to  the  men  in  the  ranks, 
for  they  seemed  to  enjoy  mounting  a  horse  and  scurrying 
over  the  plains  in  free-lance  fashion.  One  great  draw- 
back to  their  success  was  their  ignorance  of  the  topo- 
graphy of  the  country  in  which  they  were  operating.  They 


OR  THE  DULL  KNJFE  RAID  307 

were  oftentimes  compelled  to  rely  upon  the  knowledge  of 
scouts  who  were  frequently  as  ignorant  as  themselves. 
Since  so  much  depended  on  the  accurate  information 
given  by  the  guide,  one  may  imagine  the  plight  of  a  body 
of  men  guided  by  an  unreliable  scout  in  an  expedition 
through  the  mountains  or  over  the  plains.  Happily,  men 
of  such  character  were  the  exception  and  not  the  rule. 
The  rank  and  file  of  the  scouts  were  composed  of  men 
whose  knowledge  of  the  plains  seemed  almost  uncanny, 
whose  personal  courage  was  on  a  par  with  that  of  the 
bravest  of  men,  and  who  could  be  relied  upon  to  accomp- 
lish their  undertakings  with  prudence  and  despatch. 
Such  men  as  Ben  Clark,  Buffalo  Bill,  Amos  Chapman, 
W.  F.  Brannan,  Jack  Stillwell,  Billy  Dixon,  and  others 
too  numerous  to  mention  filled  all  the  requirements  for  a 
successful  scout,  and  rendered  service  to  the  country  that 
can  not  be  properly  estimated  or  fitly  described  within 
the  limits  of  a  short  narrative.  Some  of  them  I  am 
acquainted  with  personally,  and  I  feel  myself  honored  by 
it.  They  were  the  men  that  guided  the  U.  S'.  troops 
through  the  most  difficult  and  dangerous  campaigns, 
blazing  the  highways  for  them,  and  making  civilization 
possible  on  the  western  plains. 

The  summer  of  1877  passed  away  in  very  much 
the  same  fashion  as  the  preceeding  seasons  of  Indian 
warfare.  The  first  snow  fall  was  a  harbinger  of  peace, 
as  the  tribesmen  do  not  favor  the  winter  time  as  one 
fitted  for  the  activities  of  warfare.  They  preferred  to 
sit  around  the  camp  fire  in  their  winter  quarters  and 
wait  till  the  grass  was  green  and  the  plains  free  from 
snow  before  taking  the  warpath  again.  They  were  never 
known  to  break  the  custom  of  generations,  until  General 
Phil.  H.  Sheridan  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  it  was 
not  advantageous  to  allow  the  Indians  to  go  into  winter 
quarters  to  wait  for  another  season  of  warfare.  That 
looked  too  much  like  allowing  the  enemy  to  say  when, 
where,  and  how  they  would  fight,  and  that  was  con- 
trary to  the  notions  Sheridan  had  of  conducting  a  sue- 


308  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

cessful  campaign.  He  it  was  who  ordered  the  winter 
campaign  against  the  Kiowas,  Comanches,  and  Chey- 
ennes,  which  proved  successful  and  paved  the  way  to 
permanent  peace  with  those  tribes.  Nelson  A.  Miles 
adopted  the  same  plan  and  drove  Sitting  Bull  through 
the  snowbanks  across  the  boundary  into  the  Dominion 
of  Canada,  where  he  was  quite  willing  to  promise  to 
behave  himself  in  the  future  if  permitted  to  return  to 
the  land  of  his  fathers.  I  know  for  a  certainty  that  he 
lived  up  to  his  promises,  though  I  do  not  know  how  far 
he  would  have  done  so  if  he  had  not  lost  his  power  as  a 
medicine  man  with  the  Sioux.  He  was  shortly  after  his 
return  shot  and  killed  by  the  Indian  police.  His  death 
removed  one  of  the  greatest  leaders  and  warriors  that 
ever  led  the  Sioux  tribe  into  battle,  and  conduced  to 
the  establishment  of  permanent  peace  with  that  nation. 

OUSTERS  LAST  BATTLE. 

The  7th  U.  S.  Cavalry,  700  men  and  28  officers,  2 
companies  of  the  17th  U.  S.  Infantry,  1  company  6th  U.  S. 
Infantry — 8  officers  and  135  men;  One  Platoon  of  Gat- 
ling  guns,  2  officers  and  32  men,  of  the  20th  U.  S.  In- 
fantry and  40  Ree  scouts,  the  7th  Cavalry  being  com- 
manded by  General  Geo.  A.  Custer,  and  the  expeditionary 
forces  under  command  of  Brigaried  General  Alfred  H. 
Terry,  at  the  sounding  of  the  "general"  at  5  o'clock 
in  the  morning  of  may  17th,  1876  proceeded  to  march  to 
the  camp  of  Sitting  Bull  in  the  Little  Big  Horn  country, 
by  7  a.  m.  the  7th  Cavalry  was  marching  in  column  of 
platoons  through  the  post  and  around  the  parade  ground 
of  Fort  A.  Lincoln,  the  band  mounted  on  white  horses 
playing  "Garry  Owen"  the  Seventh's  battle  tune,  first 
used  when  this  gallant  regiment  charged  at  the  battle 
of  Washita.  The  column  halted  just  outside  of  the  gar- 
rison and  dismounted  where  their  wives  and  members  of 
the  families  came  out  and  bid  their  husbands  and  fathers 
good  bye,  many  of  whom  they  would  see  no  more,  after 


OR  THE  DULL  KNJFE  RAID  309 

the  farewells,  the  signals  "mount"  and  "forward"  were 
sounded  and  the  command  headed  by  the  Gallant  Seventh, 
marched  away  the  band  playing  "The  Girl  I  Left  Behind 
Me." 

The  command  proceeded  until  on  the  Rosebud,  Indian 
trails  were  discovered  June  19th.  The  mouth  of  the 
Rosebud  was  reached  June  21st,  where  preparations  were 
made  for  the  battle  that  followed  on  the  Little  Big  Horn 
June  25th  and  26th,  1876. 

The  Indians  attacked  in  this  campaign  were  various 
Sioux  tribes,  also  Northern  Cheyennes  and  Arapahoes, 
the  leading  chiefs  being  Sitting  Bull,  Rain  in  the  Face, 
Crow  King,  Low  Dog,  Big  Road,  Spotted  Eagle  and  Little 
Horse  of  the  Northern  Cheyennes — Gall,  Crow  King,  and 
Crazy  Horse  were  the  three  ruling  fighting  chiefs;  the 
total  fighting  strength  of  the  combined  Indian  forces  was 
3000. 

General  Custer  was  ordered  by  General  Terry  to  en- 
gage the  Indians,  reports  from  the  Indian  agencies  lead- 
ing him  to  believe  that  there  were  only  about  800  bucks 
in  the  field. 

General  Crook  had  engaged  Sitting  Bull's  command 
before  on  June  17th  and  was  badly  defeated  by  the 
Indians,  indeed  glad  to  escape  without  total  annihilation. 
General  Gibbons  was  near,  but  the  three  commands  oper- 
ated independently  of  each  other  while  had  they  co- 
'operated  together,  attacking  as  a  who^e,  the  Cjusfter 
massacre  as  it  is  called  would  never  have  occured. 

On  June  25th,  1876,  the  Indians  were  attacked  by  one 
battalion  under  Major  Reno,  consiting  of  Troop  "M"; 
Captain  French,  Troop  "A";  Captain,  Moy'lan,  Troop 
"G",  Lieutenant  Mclntosh,  the  Indian  scouts  until  Lieu- 
tenants Varnum  and  Hare  and  Interpreter  Girard,  Lieu- 
tenant Hodson  acting  adjutant,  Doctors  DeWolf  and 
Porter  Medical  officers,  this  battalion  marched  down  a 
valley  that  developed  into  a  small  tributary  to  the  Little 
Big  Horn,  now  called  Sundance  or  Benteen's  Creek,  where 
they  reached  the  river,  and  crossing  were  routed  by  the 


310  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

Indians  in  great  force  and  retreated  across  the  river  to 
the  bluffs  loosing  three  officers  and  29  enlisted  men 
killed,  seven  enlisted  men  and  one  officer  wounded,  one 
officer  and  fourteen  enlisted  men  missing,  the  Ree  scouts 
ran  away  and  continued  their  flight  until  outside  of 
the  danger  zone.  Some  Crow  scouts  remained  with  the 
troops. 

The  batialon  commanded  by  General  Custer,  con- 
sisted of  Troop  "I",  Captain  Keogh,  Lieutenant  Porter, 
Troop  "F",  Captain  Yates,  Lieutenant  Relly ;  Troop  "C", 
Captain  Tom  Custer  and  Lieutenant  Harrington;  Troop 
"E",  Lieutenants  Smith  and  Strugis,  troop  "L"  Lieu- 
tenants Calhoun  and  Crittenden;  Lieutenant  Cook  was 
adjutant,  Dr.  G.  E.  Lord,  Medical  officer. 

The  third  battalion  was  under  Captain  Benteen, 
the  ranking  captain  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry,  consisted  of 
Troop  "H",  Benteen,  captain,  Lieutenant  Gibson;  Troop 
"D",  Captain  Weir  and  Lieutenant  Edgerly;  and  Troop 
"K",  Lieutenant  Godfrey.  The  pack  train  was  in  com- 
mand of  Lieutenant  Mathey,  escorted  by  Troop  "B", 
Captain  McDougall,  this  batillion  was  to  proceed  to  the 
right  and  supposed  to  cut  off  Indians  routed  by  Reno, 
but  on  coming  into  view  of  the  Little  Big  Horn  Valley 
succeeded  in  joining  Reno  on  the  hills  where  he  was  being 
engaged  by  the  Indians;  while  Gall  was  leading  the  at- 
tack against  Reno,  Iron  Cedar,  one  of  his  warriors,  an- 
nounced that  more  soldiers  were  coming,  which  was  the 
battalion  under  General  Custer,  the  Indians  withdrawing 
from  attack  on  Reno  concentrated  on  Custer,  who  never 
forded  the  river  but  being  attacked  by  overwhelming 
forces  made  his  stand  on  a  ridge  where  he  and  'every  one 
of  his  comniand  went  down  to  defeat,  not  one  man  es- 
caped to  tell  the  tale — 212  bodies  were  buried  on  the 
battle  field,  all  stripped  and  mutilated  except  General 
Custer  who  was  shot  in  the  temple  and  left  side.  The 
bodies  of  Dr.  Lord  and  Lieutenant  Porter,  Harrington 
and  Sturgis  were  never  found,  at  least  not  recognized, 
the  clothing  of  Lieutenant  Porter  and  Sturgis  was  found 


OR  THE  DULL  KNJFE  RAID  31  i 

in  the  debris,  and  showed  they  had  been  killed.  The 
total  killed  of  the  entire  command  was  265,  wounded  52. 
Little  plots  of  wild  sun  flowers  mark  the  graves  of  those 
resting  here  who  died  on  that  memorable  June  25th, 
1876,  no  one  will  ever  know  the  heroic  death  they  met 
or  the  terrible  scenes  enacted  but  they  attest  the  services 
of  the  Gallant  Seventh  Cavalry  who  did  more  to  clear 
the  country  in  the  early  days  from  Mexico  to  Canada 
than  almost  all  the  other  regiments  combined.  "  Garry 
Owen"  can  not  awake  them  to  glory  again,  and  the  girls 
they  left  behind  will  mourn  until  death  shall  enable  them 
let  us  hope,  to  join  their  departed  dead  never  seen  after 
that  fatal  parting,  May  17,  1876,  at  old  Fort  Abraham 
Lincoln  on  the  banks  of  the  historical  Missouri  River. 

GENERAL  H.  M.  CREEL. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

Trouble  With  the  Northern  Cheyennes ;  Little  Chief  Con- 
ducted to  the  Agency  at  Reno,  I.  T. 

The  year  1878  found  the  Northern  Cheyennes  up  in 
arms  and  on  the  warpath,  as  were  the  other  tribes  on 
the  plains  and  in  the  mountains.  Prominent  among  the 
roving  bands  of  warriors  was  the  Little  Chief  band  of 
Northern  Chey'ennes.  They  were  very  active  and  indi- 
cations seemed  to  point  out  that  they  were  likely  to 
m,ake  things  very  disagreeable  for  the  troops  as 
well  as  for  the  ranch  man  in  that  section. 
j  Little  Chief  and  his  band  were  brought  to  Fort  A. 
Lincoln  in  December  1877  and  remained  there  until  July 
24th,  1878,  when  they  left  with  the  7th  cavalry  for 
the  Black  Hills  to  locate  a  fort,  named  later  Meade. 
The  fortunes  of  war  proved  very  unfavorable  for  him 
and  he  was  forced  to  surrender  early  in  the  season. 
His  whole  band  consisting  of  375  warriors,  with  the 
Little  Chief  himself  at  their  head,  was  taken  to  fort 
Abraham  Lincoln  as  prisoners  of  war  and  placed  in 
charge  of  Major  Tilford  who  was  in  command  of  the 
place  at  that  time.  They  remained  there  till  the  latter 
part  of  July,  when  he  selected  Ben  Clark,  General  Sheri- 
dan's chief  of  scouts  and  indian  interpreter,  to  take 
charge  of  them  and  tatoe  them  under  military  escort 
from  thence  to  their  destination  at  Fort  Reno  reservation, 
in  the  Indian  Territory.  I  herewith  give  Clark's  com- 
mission in  full. 

HEADQUARTERS 

Fort  Abraham  Lincoln,  Dakota, 

July  20th,  1878. 

To  Mr.  Ben  Clark,  in  charge  of  the  Cheyenne  Indians. 
Sir:     I  am  directed  by  the  commanding  officer  to 


GENERAL  H,  M.  CREEL 


OR  THE  DULL  KNJFE  RAID  313 

inform,  you  that  it  is  his  intention  to  have  the  Cheyenne 
Indians,  prisoners  of  war,  leave  this  post  for  their  desti- 
nation early  next  week,  and  that  you  will  make  the 
necessary  arrangements  for  their  departure  at  that  time. 
If  you  need  any  assistance  or  information  in  this  con- 
nection, you  will  report  to  the  commanding  officer  in 
person.  Very  respectfully,  Your  Obedient  Servant, 

F.  M.  GIBSON, 
1st  Lieutenant  7th  Cavalry,  Post  Adjutant. 

Ben  Clark  accepted  the  appointment  and  at  once  be- 
gan to  make  the  preparations  necessary  for  the  removal 
of  the  indians  to  their  destination  at  Fort  Reno,  I.  T.  It 
was  a  perilous  undertaking  at  that  season  of  the  year  as 
the  plains  were  alive  with  hostile  Indians.  Another  in- 
cident arose  about  the  time  to  make  the  journey  more 
hazardous  than  usual,  viz,  the  report  that  Dull  Knife 
had  left  the  reservation  at  Fort  Reno  and  was  on  his  way 
northward  to  his  former  hunting  grounds.  In  other 
words,  Dull  Knife  was  on  the  warpath  and  as  explained 
in  a  former  chapter,  was  committing  all  kinds  of  de- 
predations. It  may  be  easily  imagined  what  would  oc- 
cur if  the  tribe  that  had  just  broken  away  from  Reno 
reservation  were  to  join  forces  with  the  Little  Chief  band 
on  their  way  to  the  place  the  other  had  just  quitted. 
Naturally  the  tensity  of  the  situation  exiercised  its  in- 
fluence on  the  whole  force  accompanying  the  Little  Chief 
band.  At  this  juncture  Ben  Clark  received  the  follow- 
ing telegram: 

HEADQUARTERS 

Fort  Abraham  Lincoln, 

July  24th,  1878. 
Special  Order,  No.  175. 

Companies  H  and  L,  7th  Cavalry,  will  move  into 
camp  on  the  hill  in  the  rear  of  the  post  at  one  o'clock, 
p.  m.,  preparatory  to  taking  the  field  tomorrow,  the  25th 
of  July,  1878,  to  join  troops  operating  from  Bear  Buttes, 
Dakota,  Ter.  The  Cheyenne  Indian  prisoners  will  leave 


314  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

this  post  with  this  command  enroute  to  Camp  Robin- 
son under  the  charge  of  Ben  Clark  who  will  draw  for 
these  Indians  thirty-two  days  Indian  rations,  and  will  at- 
tend to  the  loading,  hauling,  and  issuing  of  the  same 
during  the  march.  By  command,  Major  Tilford, 

F.  M.  GIBSON, 
1st  Lieutenant,  7th  Cavalry,  Post  Adjutant. 

When  everything  was  in  readiness,  and  there  was 
considerable  difficulty  in  the  task  just  accomplished,  the 
expedition  set  out  for  Bear  Buttes.  General  Sam  D. 
Sturgis,  Colonel  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry,  in  command. 
Captain  Benteen,  in  command  of  the  escort.  The  journey 
was  rather  tedious  as  the  distance  to  be  traveled  each 
day  was  limited  by  Ben  Clark  to  15  miles.  When  they 
reached  Bear  Buttes  they  were  met  by  Second  Lieuten- 
ant H.  M.  Creel,  of  K  troop  of  the  7th  Cavalry,  and  Cap- 
tain Mathey,  who  took  charge  of  the  escort  from  that 
place  to  Fort  Robinson.  Everything  went  along  as  well 
as  the  trying  conditions  of  the  march  would  permit,  and 
through  the  watchfulness  of  Ben  Clark  the  Indians  had 
little  cause  to  murmur,  as  he  looked  after  their  interests 
and  comfort  in  a  manner  that  reflects  great  credit  upon 
him.  When  they  reached  Sidney  Barracks  farther  south, 
the  following  telegram  was  awaiting  them. 

Omaha,  Barracks,  Neb., 

Sept.  14th,  1878.,  12:35  p.  m. 

To  Ben  Clark,  in  charge  of  Cheyenne  Indians, 

In  care  of  Commanding  Officer,  Sidney  Barracks,  N,eb. 

As  the  Northern  Cheyenne  Indians  who  were  at  Fort 
Reno,  I.  T.,  have  left  there  and  are  trying  to  make  their 
way  back  north,  the  Department  Commander  desires  to 
know  if  you  think  it  advisable  for  the  Indians  under 
your  charge  to  continue  their  journey  south  at  present. 
Is  there  any  liklihood  of  their  trying  to  join  those  who 
have  left  Fort  Reno?  Where  do  you  think  those  who 
have  left  Fort  Reno  will  try  to  cross  the  Union  Pacific 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  315 

Railroad?  Telegraph  reply  to  this  and  any  other  infor- 
mation or  opinion  regarding  movements  of  those  from 
Fort  Reno  which  may  be  useful.  By  command, 

GEN.  CROOK. 
(Signed.)  R.  WILLIAMS, 

Ass't  Adjut.  General. 

Major  Mauck  took  charge  of  the  escort  under  Ben 
Clark  at  Sidney  Barracks.  Things  went  along  accord- 
ing to  the  usual  routine  until  they  reached  the  vicinity  of 
the  R«d  Cloud  agency.  The  close  proximity  of  that 
agency  to  the  present  position  of  the  prisoners  of  war, 
no  doubt,  had  some  influence  on  the  Little  Chief  band, 
as  they  used  to  belong  to  that  section  of  the  territory. 
At  this  place,  Iron  Shirt  and  Black  Wolf,  chiefs  of  no 
mean  repute,  decided  that  they  would  go  no  further. 
They  declared  that  they  preferred  to  go  to  the  Red  Cloud 
agency  and  did  not  want  to  go  any  further  south.  For 
a  time  it  seemed  as  if  there  was  going  to  be  some  dif- 
ficulty in  getting  the  expedition  under  way  again  as  Iron 
Shirt,  in  particular,  who  was  looked  upon  as  a  military 
genius  by  his  followers,  was  quite  determined  in  his 
attitude  against  any  further  advance  towards  Reno. 
However,  the  matter  was  promptly  adjusted  by  the 
commanding  officer,  by  the  use  of  a  little  diplomacy,  as 
he  explained  matters  to  them  through  the  interpreter  and 
put  the  affair  in  such  a  light  that  it  seemed  satisfac- 
tory to  all  concerned.  The  Indians  had  been  rather 
loathe  to  leave  Fort  Abraham  Lincoln  and  would  in 
all  probably  openly  resisted  were  it  not  for  an  agreement 
made  between  them  and  General  P.  H.  Sheridan  wherein 
he  promised  them  good  locations,  plenty  of  rations,  good 
hunting  on  the  North  Canadian,  and  besides,  gave  them 
permission  to  retain  their  firearms  as  there  was  an  abund- 
ance of  game  in  the  land  to  which  they  were  going. 
The  reader  will  discover  later  on  how  this  agreement 
was  respected  by  the  war  department. 

The  expedition  journeyed  along  from   Sidney  Bar- 


316  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

racks  under  command  of  Major  Mauck,  via  Fort  Wal- 
lace, Fort  Dodge,  and  Camp  Supply,  without  any  in- 
terruption of  any  importance,  though  it  was  a  very 
tickelish  situation  all  the  way  as  they  knew  not  at  what 
time  or  place  they  might  encounter  the  Dull  Knife  band. 
It  took  all  the  wariness  of  Ben  Clark  to  keep  the  band 
out  of  all  possibility  of  meeting  their  kinsmen  who  were 
then  on  the  warpath.  That  he  did  it  successfully,  is 
to  his  credit,  and  for  it  he  deserves  the  highest  com- 
mendation of  not  only  those  immediately  concerned  with 
the  expedition,  but  of  the  country  at  large,  for  if  those 
two  bands  of  Cheyennes  united,  there  would  have  en- 
sued another  massacre  appaling  in  its  execution. 

Little  Chief  and  his  band  escorted  by  four  troops 
of  the  fourth   cavalry  under  Major  Mauck   arrived   at 
Camp  Supply,  I.  T.,  in  December,  1878,  after  a  few  days' 
rest  started  for  Fort  Reno,  the  first  day's  march  brought 
them  to  the  junction  of  Wolf  and  Beaver  Creek,  forming 
the  North  Fork  Canadian  River,  where    the    command 
camped,  the  next  morning  in  the  midst  of  a  heavy  snow 
storm    Major   Mauck   came   to   Lieutenant   Creel's   tent 
about  five  o'clock  with  a  telegraphic  order  from  General 
Pope  commanding  department  of  Missouri  directing  him 
to  disarm  and  dismount  the  Northern  Cheyennes  in  his 
charge  and  en  route  for  Fort  Reno,  as  the  interior  de- 
partment at  the  instigation  of  the  Indian  office  refused  to 
allow  the  Indians  to  enter  the  Territory  unless  this  was 
done — this  was  done  to  prevent  a  repetition  of  the  Dull 
Knife  raid  of  that  year.    General  Pope  being  entirely  ig- 
norant of  the  promises  made  by  General   Sheridan   to 
these  Indians  that  they  should  retain  their  arms  and  am- 
munition and  he  had  called  their  attention  to  the  excel- 
lent hunting  in  the  Indian  Territory.    Now  on  this  morn- 
ing the  Indians  expected  to  start  out  on  a  great  hunt 
and  had  asked  Lieutenant  Creel  to  go  with  them,  but  im- 
mediately after  reveille  and  breakfast  were  confronted 
with  the  four  troops  of  the  Fourth  Cavalry  mounted  and 
asked  to  deliver  up  their  arms  and  ponies.     Lieutenant 


OR  THE  DULL  KNJFE  RAID  317 

Creel  told  Major  Mauck  of  the  promises  made  the  Indians 
by  General  Sheridan  and  pointed  to  the  interpretation  that 
would  be  placed  upon  such  treatment  and  asked  Major 
Mauck  if  he  could  not  defer  action  until  they  could 
get  into  communication  with  General  Sheridan,  Division 
commander,  but  due  to  poor  means  of  communication 
Major  Mauck  was  afraid  to  assume  the  responsibility. 
Later  when  General  Sheridan  learned  of  this  action  on 
request  of  the  Indian  office,  it  is  needless  to  say  he  was 
much  incensed  and  it  was  due  to  this  fact  that  he  in  a 
short  time  affected  the  transfer  of  all  Northern  Chey- 
ennes  in  this  band  who  desired,  to  return  to  their  old 
hunting  grounds  in  Montana. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  expedition  at  Camp  Supply, 
they  were  confronted  with  a  dispatch  from  the  war  de- 
partment through  General  Pope,  demanding  the  immedi- 
ate disarmament  of  the  Indians.  When  the  order  was 
made  known  to  Little  Chief,  he  at  once  objected  to  its 
enforcement,  and  with  his  band,  stood  with  arms  drawn 
and  ready  to  rebel  against  such  open  violation  of  their 
treaty  with  General  Sheridan. 

The  Indians  when  asked  to  surrender  their  arms  and 
ponies  refused,  and  formed  in  battle  line  in  semicircular 
formation,  the  women  and  children  in  the  center.  Iron 
Shirt  exhorting  them,  to  die  fighting  for  their  rights, 
telling  them  that  they  had  been  lied  to  long  enough,  dur- 
ing this  time  had  one  gun  gone  off,  it  would  have  been 
the  commencement  of  a  bloody  massacre  of  women  and 
children.  All  the  women  and  children  that  could  crowd 
into  Lieutenant  Creel's  two  tents,  thinking  that  when 
the  firing  commenced  they  would  be  immune.  Until 
eleven  o'clock  the  Indians  maintained  a  bold  and  re- 
lenting attitude,  their  guns  in  hand,  they  stood  immov- 
able not  yielding  one  inch;  during  this  tense  interval 
when  any  moment  one  shot  would  have  precipitated  a 
bloody  fight,  Lieutenant  Creel  remained  with  the  Indians 
in  their  midst,  walking  quietly  up  and  down  their  line 
urging  carefulness  and  pleading  for  the  lives  of  their 


318  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

women  and  children  until  they  finally  surrendered.  The 
Northern  Cheyennes  as  Little  Wolf  said  at  Washington 
in  the  winter  of  1913,  had  made  him  an  adopted  member 
of  their  tribe,  and  the  history  of  the  Cheyenne  nation 
or  people  would  not  be  complete  without  'his  name  in  it, 
that  no  white  man,  an  officer  in  the  gallant  Seventh 
Cavalry  had  Avhen  death  was  near,  stood  with  the  Indians 
in  their  midst,  and  on  their  side  as  he  had  done,  every 
other  white  man  had  left  the  Indian  camp  including 
William  Roland,  a  half-breed  Cheyenne  interpreter  for 
these  Indians,  saying  there  was  going  to  be  a  massacre. 

It  was  certainly  a  very  trying  situation.  There  was 
not  a  man  of  the  whole  command  who  did  not  admit 
the  justice  of  the  Indian  Chief's  refusal  to  turn  over 
the  arms  which  he  had  been  promised  to  be  allowed  to 
keep  as  he  would  need  them  in  iiis  new  location  for 
the  purpose  of  killing  game.  The  cavalry  were  ordered 
to  mount  and  enforce  the  unjust  order.  At  this  point 
there  occured  one  of  those  little  incidents  that  often- 
times raises  a  man  above  his  fellows  and  marks  him  for 
all  time  as  one  to  whom  the  regard  for  justice  is  para- 
mount above  all  things,  even  life  itself. 

The  troops  had  mounted  and  were  holding  themselves 
in  readiness  for  further  orders,  when  H.  M.  Creel,  second 
lieutenant  of  K  troop,  indignant  at  th'e  injustice  of  the 
order,  went  to  the  Indians  and  urged  them  to  refrain 
from  bringing  on  an  engagement  which  would  prove 
disasterous  to  themselves  and  cause  a  massacre  of  their 
women  and  children.  As  the  lieutenant  could  speak  the 
Cheyenne  tongue  fluently,  and  was  familiar  with  the 
customs  and  habits  of  the  tribe,  he  received  a  hearing 
that  was  respectful.  He  succeeded  in  bringing  about  a 
conciliation  by  becoming  personally  responsible  for  their 
firearms  and  anything  else  which  they  might  have  that 
was  considered  contraband  of  war.  By  his  course  of 
action  in  the  matter,  he  at  onee  won  the  undying  grati- 
tude of  the  Cheyennes,  which  endures  to  this  day,  and 


BEN  CLARK 
Gen,  P.  H.  Sheridan's  Chief  of  Scouta 


OR  THE  DULL  KNJFE  RAID  319 

will  continue  to  do  so  as  long  as  the  traditions  of  the 
cheyenne  are  handed  down  to  posterity. 

The  trouble  being  averted,  the  escort  started  on  its 
way  again,  Ben  Clark  guiding  them  down  the  river.  But 
the  danger  was  not  yet  past.  General  Pope  insisted 
on  the  order  being  carried  out  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
justice  and  decency  forbade  it.  However,  he  succeeded 
in  having  it  fulfilled,  but  when  it  was  carried  into  ef- 
fect there  were  not  enough  guns  of  any  value  to  arm  a 
corporal's  guard.  I  have  always  been  under  the  im- 
pression that  the  Indians  during  the  march  from  where 
the  trouble  arose  to  the  place  where  they  were  dis- 
armed, succeeded  in  secreting  the  best  of  their  arms, 
which  was  not  very  difficult  as  the  soldiers  were  not  too 
strict  in  trying  to  prevent  their  doing  so  as  they  saw 
that  an  injustice  was  being  done  to  their  charges.  I  do 
not  know  what  General  Sheridan  thought  or  said  when 
he  learned  how  his  treaty  of  peace  with  the  Indians  had 
been  observed  by  the  war  department,  but,  I  am  under 
the  impression,  that  if  one  could  have  taken  a  kaleido- 
scopic view  of  his  thoughts  at  the  time,  there  would  likely 
have  been  a  very  lurid  tint  about  them. 

Once  the  Indians  were  disarmed,  the  work  trials  of 
the  expedition  were  practically  at  an  end.  It  was  a  very 
short  march  down  the  N,orth  Canadian  to  the  place  of 
their  future  abode.  Ben.  Clark  saw  to  it  that  things  were 
carried  out,  as  far  as  possible,  to  the  satisfaction  of 
all. 

Nor  did  Lieutenant  Creel  leave  the  wards  of  the 
government  at  once.  In  fact  he  remained  with  them 
for  a  considerable  length  of  time  in  the  capacity  of 
agent,  and  the  confidence  they  had  in  him  is  shown 
by  the  results  of  his  tenure  of  office  among  them.  He 
came  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  father  to  all  of  them,  to 
whom  they  might  go  to  have  all  wrongs  righted,  and 
their  rights  preserved.  The  result  of  such  confidential 
relationship  between  Lieutenant  Creel  and  the  Indians 
is  manifest  today  in  the  high-class  of  citizenship  that 


320  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

exists  among  the  wards  of  the  government,  and  their 
advancement  in  the  various  pursuits  of  life  according 
to  the  white  man's  ways. 

Creel  was  the  man  of  the  hour.  He  devoted  his  time, 
talents,  and  energy  to  the  elevation  of  the  children  of 
the  plains.  He  set  out  to  improve  their  educational  fa- 
cilities. He  wrote  a  grammar  and  a  dictionary  of  the 
Cheyenne  tongue,  of  which  he  had  a  complete  mastery. 
Also  work  on  the  sign  language  of  the  North  American 
Indians.  His  work  in  this  regard  was  of  guch  a  high 
order  as  to  be  preserved  in  the  Smithsonian  Institute  in 
Washington,  D.  C. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Ben  Clark;  General  Creel;  Some  Observation  in 
Conclusion. 

In  concluding  the  little  work,  I  deem  it  impossible 
to  close  without  paying  tribute  to  two  men  who  have 
done  so  much  in  the  way  of  settling  the  difficulties  of 
the  west,  and  making  it  possible  for  the  white  settlers 
to  live  in  peace  and  prosperity,  freed  entirely  from  the 
haunting  spectre  of  an  Indian  raid.  Many  have  con- 
tributed their  share  to  the  important  work,  and  credit 
must  be  given  them,  nevertheless  in  any1  undertaking, 
there  are  men  who  seem  by  nature  to  be  better  adapted 
to  the  work  than  others;  so  it  was  in  the  closing  days  of 
the  Indian  troubles  of  the  West,  when  the  Indian  had 
good  cause  for  looking  on  the  white  man  with  sus- 
picion, and  the  result  as  shown  in  those  numerous  raids 
upon  the  white  settlements  during  the  decade  of  1870 
and  1880. 

In  the  long  array  of  men  who  endeavored  to  bring 
the  difficulties  that  disturbed  the  West  to  a  satisfactory 
close,  we  find  two  who  played  an  important  part  within 
the  scope  of  their  opportunities,  and  the  results  of  their 
work  are  manifest  at  this  date. 

Ben  Clark  was  a  scout.  The  term  to  the  ordinary 
man  of  affairs  does  not  rn^ean  much,  but  if  one  could 
ask  General  Sheridan's  opinion  of  the  man  and  scout,  he 
would  place  him  in  the  very  first  rank  of  all  scouts  of 
the  West.  He  was  a  man  particularly  gifted  by  nature 
with  the  endowments  requisite  to  achieve  success  in  his 
calling.  He  seemed  to  have  an  uncanny  knowledge  of 
the  plains.  Like  an  open  book  he  read  her  every  mood. 
On  his  knowledge  of  that  vast  trackless  plain  depended 
the  success  of  many  an  expedition,  and  there  yet  remains 


322  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

no  failure  to  mar  the  brilliant  record  of  his  achievements. 
Not  only  soldiers,  but  generals  placed  themselves  un- 
reservedly in  his  hands  and  felt  safe.  He  was  not  a 
soldier,  but  no  soldier  ever  showed  greater  qualities  of 
generalship  than  he.  Generals  commanded  the  armies, 
he  commanded  the  generals  and  they  gladly  obeyed  him. 
Amid  all  the  trials  and  vicissitudes  of  his  life  of  hard- 
ship, he  ever  maintained  an  evenness  of  temperament 
that  carried  him  down  to  the  present  day,  to  a  ripe  old 
age,  after  more  than  fifty  years  of  service  in  the  Army, 
not  a  soldier,  but  as  a  scout,  respected  and  retaining  the 
confidence  of  the  men  with  whom  he  spent  days  and  years 
of  hardship  on  the  plains. 

Associated  with  Ben  clark  in  the  later  days  was  one 
who  has  risen  by  dint  of  devotion  to  duty  to  a  very  high 
position  in  the  sphere  of  military  affairs.  I  refer  to 
General  Creel,  as  he  is  now  called.  Among  the  many 
positions  that  General  Creel  has  held  was  that  of  adjut- 
ant general  of  his  state,  North  Dakota,  where  he  raised 
the  national  guard  of  his  state  from  chaos  to  such  a  de- 
gree of  efficiency  that  the  war  department  after  full  in- 
spection and  field  maneuver  of  the  guard  with  regulars 
declared  ninety  per  cent  fit  for  duty  in  the  field  on  a 
par  with  the  regular  army.  General  Creel  on  his  own 
request  was  highly  complimented  by  the  governor  for  his 
distinguished  services  and  retired  with  the  rank  of  major 
general  as  provided  by  law.  Of  his  soldierly  qualities 
there  is  not  much  need  of  making  the  record  here,  as  it 
is  open  to  all  who  wish  to  consult  the  archieves  of  the 
army.  Fighting  qualities  are  expected  in  a  soldier,  other- 
wise he  would  be  out  of  place  in  the  ranks,  but  there  are 
other  qualities  that  set  a  man  apart  from  his  fellows. 
Some  men  have  administrative  ability,  some  diplomacy, 
others  skill  in  various  lines,  but  a  man  must  have  a 
special  adaptation  by  nature  who  can  take  the  rough, 
untamed  spirits  of  the  plains  away  from  their  native 
heths,  from  all  that  is  dear  to  them,  and  at  the  same  time 
make  them  love  him.  Some  could  do  it  by  force,  but  the 


OR  THE  DULL  KNJFE  RAID  323 

result  would  not  be  lasting,  as  is  instanced  in  the  case  of 
Dull  Knife ;  others  could  do  it  by  love  of  justice  and 
fair  play  and  convert  the  savage  into  a  high-class  citizen 
of  the  state.  The  latter  was  the  method  used  by  General 
Creel,  and  to  show  that  they  have  not  forgotten  the 
spirit  of  fairness  that  characterized  the  man,  one  would 
but  have  to  visit  the  Darlington  Agency,  Oklahoma,  when 
the  general  makes  a  trip  to  the  scene  of  his  earliy  ef- 
forts as  an  Indian  pacifier,  and  see  how  they  gather 
around  him  and  show  marks  not  merely  of  respect,  but 
of  real  affection.  To  the  work  of  his  office  he  added 
occupations  of  his  own  choice.  He  devoted  himself  to  a 
thorough  study  of  the  Cheyenne  tongue,  and  his  ef- 
forts resulted  in  a  grammar  and  dictionary  of  that  lan- 
guage. Not  only  is  the  general  an  authority  on  the  Chey- 
enne dialect,  but  his  work  otf  the  sign,  language  is 
masterly.  He  is  not  only  a  man  well  versed  in  Indian 
affairs,  though  that  itself  would  be  sufficient  for  most 
men,  but  is  one  of  the  directors  of  the  1914  Chatauqua 
institute.  One  would  be  inclined  to  think  that  with  all 
the  successes  that  attend  his  efforts,  and  the  title  of 
general  that  he  bears,  that  he  would  be  inclined  to  be 
swelled  with  the  s'ense  of  his  own  importance,  but  not  so. 
You  will  not  find  a  more  modest  man  in  the  whole  range 
of  activity  than  the  general.  He  is  the  last  man  that 
you  would  take  to  be  one  of  the  great  geniuses  of  the 
West  if  you  were  to  estimate  him  by  his  general  be- 
havior. 

In  conclusion,  much  might  be  written  about  the  com- 
plex nature  of  the  Indian  and  the  trouble  he  created  for 
the  white  man  during  the  last  half  century.  But  if  the 
white  man  were  to  put  himself  in  the  place  of  the  Indian 
I  doubt  if  he  would  act  differently.  One  cannot  see  an 
intruder  come  into  one's  domain  and  lay  waste  the  very 
foundation  of  one 's  existance  without  finding  that  trouble 
has  originated  that  is  likely  to  be  far  reaching.  That 
was  the  situation.  The  Indian  had  been  master  of 
the  plains  from  time  immemorial,  and  like  every  posses- 


324  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  FIGHT 

sor  of  territory;  he  had  no  idea  of  yielding  up  his 
home,  his  life,  without  a  struggle.  He  had  not  admitted 
the  sovereignty  of  the  government  when  the  white  man 
came  among  the  tribes.  Any  territorial  extension  that 
had  been  made  on  the  part  of  the  government  was  made 
by  treaty,  and  any  one  conversant  with  history  well 
knows  how  faithlessly  the  truces  and  pacts  with  the 
Indians  have  been  kept.  In  fact,  it  is  one  of  the  stand- 
ing disgraces  to  our  country  that  so  many  of  the  agree- 
ments with  the  original  holders  of  the  land  have  been 
broken.  It  looks  as  if  the  principle  that  "might  makes 
right"  were  the  only  one  in  vogue  when  dealing  with 
the  Indian.  He  has  not  only  been  deceived  frequently 
in  the  past,  and  treaties  with  him,  violated,  but  he  has 
also  been  plundered  in  ruthless  fashion  by  those  whom 
the  government  sent  to  look  after  his  affairs.  Scandal 
upon  scandal  has  occured  among  the  agents  in  charge  of 
the  different  reservations,  with  the  result  that  the  Indians 
not  only  became  disgusted  with  the  treatment  they  re- 
ceived, but  broke  away  from  their  locations  and  went 
on  the  warpath.  If  the  different  tribes  that  surrendered 
had  been  treated  with  the  proper  amount  of  justice,  half 
or  more  of  the  blood-curdling  atrocities  of  the  latter  part 
of  the  decade  of  1870  would  not  have  occured.  What  was 
wanted  was  more  men  like  General  Sheridan,  and  Gen- 
eral Creel,  and  less  of  the  grafters  and  boodlers  who 
looked  upon  the  Indian  as  lawful  prey  to  be  robbed  and 
pillaged  with  ruthless  abandon. 

The  government.  I  have  no  doubt  was  willing  to  do 
the  right  thing,  but  was  frequently  unfortunate  in  the 
choice  of  the  means  adopted.  The  Quakers  who  came 
upon  the  scene  early  in  the  management  of  Indian  af- 
fairs, meant  well,  but  their  peaceful  measures  were  not 
adapted  to  the  nature  and  character  of  the  tribes  of  the 
plains.  They  did  not  understand  the  nature)  of  the 
Indians  who  were  wont  to  travel  with  unrestrained  free- 
dom over  the  vast  plains,  living  their  lives  according  to 
their  lights  and  traditions.  The  Quaker  method  of  curb- 


OR  THE  DULL  KNIFE  RAID  325 

ing  their  dauntless  spirit  was  about  as  effective  as  try- 
ing to  tame  a  wildcat  by  saying,  " pussy."  As  I  said, 
th'ey  meant  well,  did  their  best,  but  their  efforts  caused 
the  Indian  to  smile  on  more  than  one  occasion. 

The  methods  frequently  used  by  the  war  office  to 
bring  the  Indians  into  subjection  did  not  always  meet 
with  the  success  that  the  efforts  exerted  would  war- 
rant. True,  it  was  a  novel  kind  of  warfare  for  civilized 
men  to  undertake,  but  I  do  not  think  that  the  utmost 
care  was  always  exercised  in  carrying  out  the  different 
campaigns.  There  is  much  to  show  that  there  must 
have  been  considerable  laxity  in  different  places,  as  is 
shown  in  the  ease  with  which  Dull  Knife  marched,  by, 
past,  and  around,  different  forts  in  his  way  north,  and 
with  a  mere  handful  of  men  set  at  naught  the  efforts  of 
several  regiments.  There  is  no  question  about  the  will- 
ingness of  the  private  soldier  to  do  his  duty,  for  he  was 
usually  found  at  his  post  and  fighting  to  the  last  ditch, 
but  there  were  men  wearing  the  garb  of  officers  who  did 
not  exercise  the  judgment  of  skilled  fighters  in  handling 
a  difficult  situation,  or  in  following  an  efficient  plan  of 
campaign.  All  this  naturally  tended  to  give  the  Indian 
an  opportunity  he  was  looking  for,  and  the  blows  he 
dealt  in  return  were  of  considerable  heft. 

The  day  is  coming  slowly  but  surely  when  the  last 
red  man  will  have  disappeared  from  the  domain  wherein 
•he  roamed  a  monarch.  He  does  not  seem  to  be  able  to 
thrive  on  the  white  man's  mode  of  life.  It  may'  be  that 
the  veneer  of  civilization  that  he  had  acquired  in  recent 
years  is  more  of  a  restraint  than  a  benefit  to  him.  The 
vices  of  the  white  man  have  had  their  effect  upon  him 
also.  Whatever  the  causes,  the  race  seems  to  be  doomed 
to  extinction,  the  buffalo  and  the  Indian  seemed  to  be 
an  essential  part  of  the  plains.  The  buffalo  is  practically 
only  a  memory,  and  the  red  man  is  following  his  trail  to- 
ward the  setting  sun,  soon  to  disappear  over  the  horizon 
of  time. 


326  THE  INDIANS'  LAST  PIGH1 


AFTERWORD 

Before  taking  leave  of  my  readers,  I  cannot  re- 
frain from  expressing  the  appreciation  I  feel  for  the  As- 
sistance I  have  received  from  numerous  reliable  sources. 
The  best  authority  for  an  account  of  any  happening  is 
the  chief  actor  in  the  drama,  and  this  is  undoubtedly  true 
when  the  authors  themselves  are  m,en  of  integrity,  re- 
liability, modesty  and  truth.  Men  of  this  type  neces- 
sarily leave  the  impression  of  truthfulness  and  reliability, 
on  any  narration  of  events  they  may  make.  Such  men 
I  have  consulted  in  my  work  to  guarantee  the  authenticity 
and  veracity  of  my  narrative.  I  take  a  great  pleasure  in 
acknowledging  my  indebtedness  to  General  H.  M.  Creel, 
Ben  Clark  and  Mr.  John  Murphy.  Others  who  have  as- 
sisted me  in  compiling  the  preceeding  chapters,  I  have 
mentioned  in  various  parts  of  the  book,  but  those  I  enum- 
erate here,  have  assisted  me  in  a  special  manner  and  I 
feel  it  a  duty  to  thank  them  abundantly  for  their  favor 
in  directing  me  in  setting  down  the  correct  narrative  of 
events  described.  As  these  gentlemen  are  still  living,  it 
is  a  very  easy  matter  for  any  one  to  consult  them  in  re- 
gard to  the  historical  'events  of  the  preceeding  chapters, 
but  any  one  who  knows  the  character  of  these  gentlemen 
will  deem  it  sufficient  that  they  have  placed  the  stamp 
of  their  approval  on  the  pages  of  the  preceeding  work. 

To  my  wife,  who  so  faithfully  kept  the  light  in  the 
window  as  a  beacon  to  insure  my  safe  return,  this  little 
volume  is  most  respectfully  dedicated. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


